Hearts Eye View
by Barachiel
Summary: [KOTOR] REVISED CH1-4! Bastila recounts all that transpired during the quest for the Star Forge . She focuses on the personal trials and conflicts that arose within her as she struggles with her bond to Revan and her obligations to the Council. Fixed Category. Put in Movies for some stupid reason.
1. Prologue

**Heart's Eye View - Prologue**

_REVISED_ I'm rewriting the first few chapters of my fanfic to make it more accessible to people less familiar with the game, and to make it match what I feel are the standards of the later chapters. The Prologue and Chapters 1 & 2 are being written from scratch, while Chapter 3 will be a combination of the old chapters 2-3 with heavy rewrites. I may alter other chapters as well. Consider this my Special Edition.

_Disclaimer: George Lucas and Bioware own everything. I'm merely having some fun in their playground. Besides which, I'm just a poor, unemployed history major so suing me will get you nothing but the rights to my student loan payments. _

Prologue

I don't understand how this happened. It goes against all that I was raised to believe. A Jedi does not love. It is too dangerous. While it may be a positive emotion, it is so easily twisted in jealousy, anger, and hatred that it is to be avoided. Emotional attachments are a danger, an easy road down to the Dark Side. A Jedi must be at peace, free of emotion and passion. Yet I cannot change the fact that I have fallen in love, against all the teachings and wisdom of the Order.

When did this happen? When did I decide my feelings were more important than the tenets of Council? I am Bastila Shan, a padawan of the Jedi Order. For as long as I could remember, the Order had been my life. It seemed like a lifetime ago, that I lived on Talravin with my parents. My father was a historian and an explorer. My mother was his assistant. They had met during school and had been partners ever since, my father liked to joke. At age five, I was given to the Jedi Order at my mother's insistence. There I trained under Master Vrook Lamar at the Jedi enclave on Dantooine. The Jedi believed I had a great gift in the Force, though it took years for it to fully manifest itself. Just after the close of the Mandalorian Wars, I had my first manifestation of Battle Meditation, a rare gift that allows the user to influence of even large-scale battles.

The Mandalorian Wars was where everything had begun to go wrong. The Mandalorians, an aggressive near-Human race that lived beyond the Outer Rim of civilized space, had begun attacking worlds along the Rim. At first the Republic cared little for turmoil so far from their borders. The Mandalorians did not stay on the outskirts of known space for long. Soon they were attacking the outermost systems of the Republic.

The Senate came to the Jedi Council on Coruscant and begged the Order for assistance. After almost a week of deliberation, Master Nomi Sunrider of the High Council of Coruscant delivered their response to the Senate personally: the Jedi could not provide aid to the Republic at this time. When pressed for a reason, all the Council would say is that there was a dark shadow in the Force over the Outer Rim and to rush headlong into a war out there might spell disaster if the Jedi were not properly prepared.

Suffice to say, the Senate was not pleased with this news, nor were many of the order. One knight, Revan, the youngest knight in the history of the Jedi at only age 20, began to protest against this lack of action. In the space of a month, he had rallied nearly a third of the Jedi on Coruscant to his cause. Without the sanction of the Council, he and his friend, Malak, led these Jedi to assist the Republic against the Mandalorian threat.

The Council renounced these Jedi as renegade, and provided them no support or advice, which made little difference. Revan was a tactical genius; his passion for history and culture had taught him a great deal about warfare, and soon he turned the Mandalorians own tactics against them. He crafted a set of blue and silver battle armor, complete with mask, in a style reminiscent of the Mandalorians. His masked visage became feared by all who stood against him, and some say, even his allies.

He stripped worlds of their defenses to protect "essential" systems, and lured the enemy into ambushes and into over-extending their lines. He calculated rightly that the Mandalorians had little interest in worlds that could not fight back, and devoted their attention to worlds they felt would provide more a challenge to their perverse sense of honor. The High Council looked on with trepidation at his actions, but the Senate of the Republic offered only praise and commendations.

For almost four years, he waged a war of attrition against the Mandalorians. Finally he forced a confrontation over the world of Malachor V. The Mandalorians had gathered all their number for one massive assault, intended to bring about total victory or defeat. They outnumbered the Republic forces by almost five to one. Revan had somehow planned for even this. His engineers had assembled a shadow gravity generator on a scale unseen, to create a gravimetric storm that sheared many of the enemy ships into shrapnel. It also had the unpredicted effect of shattering the nearby world's own delicate gravitational balance and Malachor V and its population of 100 million sentients died to bring Revan his victory.

The devastation was so shocking that Revan offered a personal duel to Mandalore, to bring an end to the war. That duel has become a legend in only a few short years. I won't bore you with reciting what you doubtlessly already have heard a hundred times in cantinas across the galaxy; Revan's victory is a matter of historical fact. The Mandalorians quietly surrendered to the man who had so thoroughly bested them. To drive home this fact, he ordered the survivors disarmed and had their weapons and Basilisk war droids destroyed in front of them, before letting them return to their worlds.

It should have ended there, but it didn't. The next day, Revan took his most of his fleet and departed for the Unknown Regions. His last communiqué to the Senate stated that not all the Mandalorians had surrendered. He intended to pursue them should they decide to continue their harassment of innocent worlds. A few ships chose to return home or were too badly damaged to undertake the expedition, led by Admiral Saul Karath. They were treated to a hero's welcome and many chose to retire after that. It seemed that we had a happy ending, but the masters knew better.

Among the returning heroes was one of Revan's foremost generals, Nalto Kann, the first and only Mandalorian Jedi, raised by the Order after he was found orphaned on a distant world after Trandoshan raiders had devastated its colony. He was the only Jedi to return from the war, and he offered himself up to the Council for judgment. No one knows exactly what took place but those already behind the sealed doors of the council chambers. All that is known is that Kann was exiled beyond the bounds of Republic space. Some say the Council even stripped him of his ability to use the Force, a punishment not used since the fall of Ulic Qel-Droma during the war with Exar Kun. This tale, however, is not about Kann.

Just a year later, the Republic was suddenly struck by a two-pronged invasion force from the Unknown Regions. Half a dozen systems fell within a matter of days. Reports of alien ships with advanced technology poured in from survivors. It was believed a new race had decided to make its presence known. A few days after the first attacks, the Senate received a communiqué from Revan, who had announced to all that he had taken the title Dark Lord of the Sith! His armor now stained black, he proclaimed his intention to conquer the Republic and offered them a chance to surrender unconditionally. The saviors of the Republic had returned home at last: as conquerors.

That was two years ago. Since then, the Republic had fought a slowly losing war against the newly christened Darth Revan and his apprentice, Darth Malak. Obviously, the Jedi did not remain absent in this war. I was summoned by the Council to assist the Republic with my Battle Meditation. With my help, the Sith were kept from achieving total victory, though all knew it was only a matter of time.


	2. Chapter 1 To Catch a Sith Lord

**Heart's Eye View – Chapter 1**

**To Catch a Sith Lord**

_Disclaimer: George Lucas and Bioware own everything. I'm merely having some fun in their playground. Besides which, I'm just a poor, unemployed history major so suing me will get you nothing but the rights to my student loan payments. _

I will never forget that morning. I had just woken up and gotten out of the 'fresher. I had just finished tying my dark brown hair into the intricate bun with two short tails I had favored since I was a girl. My mother had been the one to show me how to braid it in this fashion. Despite that, I liked it, and kept it, as one of the few sentimental reminders of my life before joining the order. I wore my tan and brown leather dueling jumpsuit as opposed to a standard Jedi's robe favored by most. I knew I was looked at unfavorably by some for it, but it was Master Vrook permitted it. I never really understood why, considering how conservative he was.

My master came to my quarters earlier than usual. He just walked in unannounced, as was his habit. It was his way of testing our adaptability. He was an older man, balding, with a heavily worn face that told a lifetime of struggle. He had fought in the Exar Kun War and partaken in numerous struggles during his tenure as a master. I could tell he was in a particularly dark mood. "Bastila, I need you to come with me. The council has requested your presence." With that terse phrase, he turned and left as abruptly as he had entered. I followed him quickly, knowing that was what he expected of me.

The Jedi Council of the Dantooine Enclave should not be mistaken for the High Council on Coruscant. Every enclave and academy has a ruling council. However, the Dantooine Enclave's council was made of up two members who also had seats on the High Council of Coruscant, though they chose to reside elsewhere. One was my master, Vrook Lamar, who I have already made mention of. The other was Master Vandar, a diminutive fellow with pale green skin and ears almost as long as he was tall, with a far more amiable personality than most masters I had encountered over the years. His species was unknown to me; apparently it was a secret of the Order, though none knew why. All knew he was considered to be the wisest of the masters and most deferred to his judgment.

The other two council members were Master Zhar, a Twi'lek from Ryloth and our foremost instructor. It was his responsibility to train the young apprentices and he handled the Tests not only for Padawan but Knight as well. Lastly, was Master Dorak, the historian of the enclave. A dark-skinned native of Malastare, he was an enthusiastic student of ancient lore. He had little to do with full-time training, but all the students sat at his knee at some point in their career.

I entered the wide, circular halls of the council chamber just mere moments behind my master. On the front of the chamber was a ring of over a dozen chairs. I never really understood why as the council never seemed to number more than 4 at any given time, but no one had been brave enough to ask. I looked down at my boots as I stood before them. "Masters, to what do I owe this honor?"

Vandar took a step forward to bring himself into eye contact, looking up at me. "How many times must we tell you it is permissible to look up when you enter this chamber, padawan? We cannot have you looking to the floor when you are with us. You will always be running into things."

Slowly, I raised my head, though I could not help but keep my eyes downcast. Master Vrook had always stressed showing respect to the council, especially now that Revan's folly was plain to all. "Yes master, forgive me."

The small figure let out an almost inaudible sigh. "Bastila, we have a task for you."

"I will serve however I can." I could not help but feel some trepidation as I spoke. Most of my recent missions had involved being sent to the front line of some battle where I was needed to desperately stave off a Sith victory. I did not fear for myself. I knew my skills would not fail me. However, one misstep and the Republic would lose its one advantage: me.

Zhar took over the briefing. "We have learned that Revan and Malak will be near Ord Mandell, transferring troops and supplies between their two fleets. We feel this is a perfect opportunity."

My mind reeled at the suggestion. Did they think we could end the war with a lightning attack? I was not aware the Republic had a force capable of taking on both Revan and Malak's forces simultaneously.

Vrook shook his head as if reading my thoughts. "No, padawan. We cannot win this war though military might. Instead, we must take this opportunity to strike at the head of the beast that threatens us."

"We intend to send you leading a covert team of Jedi and Republic SpecOps troops to storm Revan's flagship, the Titan," Zhar continued. "Once there, it is our hope you can capture Revan and bring him here for interrogation."

"Interrogation, masters? I know we do not believe in assassination, but would this not be an ideal opportunity to kill him?" I was confused, this plan held great risk. Capturing a Jedi is infinitely harder than killing one and that was no easy task in and of itself either.

Master Vander looked back up at me. "Surely you have noticed Revan possesses a fleet much larger and more advanced than any in the galaxy, and yet he did not have these ships with him when he vanished. It is this seemingly endless supply of ships, droids, and fighters that is the true enemy in this war. We need to know how Revan has amassed such a force, and the only one who knows all those secrets is undoubtedly him. We need him alive so we may try and bring him back to the Light. With his conversion, we will undoubtedly learn much about his missing years." His ears pulled back and flattened somewhat against the sides of his head. It was clear he had his reservations about this course of action.

"Yes, master. Even the defections from the Republic and conscripts from conquered worlds cannot possibly account for his military might. His tactical genius is bad enough, but with unlimited resources at his command, many feel it is only a matter of time before he overthrows the Republic."

Vrook's stern voice called my attention next. "Then you understand our need for such desperate action. It is much to ask of one so inexperienced, but you are the only one who has even a chance of making this mission successful."

I couldn't quite suppress the swell of pride at his statement. It may not sound like it, but from him, that is quite a compliment. "I will not let you down, masters. Tell me what I am to do."

A few days later, I found myself aboard a stolen Sith troop transport. Aboard were two other Jedi, the human Talen Crais and a Miraluka named Pah'uu Zehn. We were being supported by an entire elite commando team from the Republic led by one Lieutenant Dev, an Alderaanian by birth, and yet somehow he wound up in command of a deadly team of elite soldiers; unusual for someone from a world renowned for its pacifistic beliefs.

Our ship came smoothly out of hyperspace near the re-supply point. The silvery hulls of the Titan and the Leviathan shone in the distance. The strange curved indentation, almost like that of a maw, was like nothing seen before. Crais piloted the cargo ship towards our destination. His long brown hair was pulled back into a tight braid that ran halfway down his back. He transmitted the docking codes to the auto-targeting Point Defense Cannons that protected the ship from heavy fighter attack. A simple acknowledgement was sent and we were aboard.

Once docked, the commandos triggered a small "accident" with the engines that gave us cover to leave the ship and make our way to the nearby turbolift while the bay crews struggled to contain the fire and coolant spilling out across their deck. We arrived on the bridge level, and had to fight our way through a heavy contingent of droids and guards to reach the bridge itself. We lost most of our troopers in the assault, but we made it to the bridge blast door. Zehn and I covered Lt. Dev as he planted a shaped charge on the locking mechanism and gained us access to the bridge.

Waiting for us were three Dark Jedi, clad in the grey and black jumpsuits, complete with rather ridiculous facemasks. Crais, Zehn, and I leapt upon them, sabers in hand. It was first battle with a Dark Jedi, but I knew it would not be my last. A certainty filled me, that no matter what, we would win the day. I could not enter a full Battle Meditation trance but I tried to channel a little of my confidence into my comrades. In a matter of moments, we prevailed as our enemies fell at our feet. Lt. Dev threw a couple of grenades into the crew pits, removing any other possible reinforcement. We were alone, just us and our quarry.

It was the first time I ever actually saw him, that day. We had never met, though I Malak did come to Dantooine once to try and persuade some of us to join their cause. Naturally, I heeded the wisdom of the Council. For the entire skirmish, he had just stood with his back to us, looking out the viewport at the stars, Malak's Leviathan just a few hundred meters off our starboard. He slowly turned around and raised his hand. Before me, Lieutenant Dev collapsed to the deck, gasping for air as unseen hands choked the life from him.

Darth Revan, the fallen Knight, garbed in his battle armor, face hidden behind that Sith mask drew his crimson blade and moved into a dueling stance, holding it just above his head, as he waited for my team and I to approach, mocking us. As I looked across the walkway to the Sith Lord, I took an aggressive stance myself and challenged him. "You cannot win, Revan," I boldly proclaimed, flanked by my fellow Jedi. I had never met them before that mission, and that brief time was all that I would have with them.

In the next instant, a barrage of cannon fire slammed into the bridge. I recognized it as coming from Malak's Leviathan. The pupil was betraying the teacher, as the Sith traditions had long mandated. Malak must have thought he could rid himself of his master and some Jedi in one fell swoop. For an ambitious Sith, the choice would have been an easy one.

Somehow I survived, unscathed. The rest of the crew was not so lucky. Zehn had been impaled by a bridge support beam. Crais was burned alive as one of the blasts passed close by him. It must have missed me by barely a meter. I glanced forward. The viewport had been annihilated. Some kind of emergency force field had snapped into place, preventing us from being sucked into the vacuum of space. Another one of the miracles these strange alien vessels were capable of. Where DID Revan get them?

I glanced down and saw the crumpled form of the Dark Lord, lying on the deck. I crawled my way over to him. Darkness ever turns upon itself, I thought. Evil such as this can only end in death.

That's when I felt it: that last flicker of the Force still burning in his body. I couldn't believe it. Somehow, he had survived the brunt of the attack. I looked over him and could see a blood stain matting down the hood of his cloak. A head injury… I must know how bad it is. I pulled his mask off and the breath caught in my throat.

Even now, I'm not certain what I expected him to look like. Many of those who follow the Dark Side sport deformities of some kind, as the darkness eats away at their bodies like a cancer. Yet as I looked down as the most feared Dark Lord of the Sith since Exar Kun, I saw a face, clear of hatred, of anger, of evil. He was a not unattractive human male, with long dark hair that stopped just above his shoulders. His eyes were half-closed, but I could see they were a bluish-grey. His face was smooth and calm, despite the trail of blood. Unconscious, defenseless, with all his walls and shields gone, stripped bare of whatever events had driven him down this path, his face was serene… almost innocent. He was nothing like I would have expected.

Forcing my attention back to the situation at hand, I examined him. His eyes were shut. His long brown hair was pulled back and the left side of his head was stained with blood. A piece of transparisteel from the viewport had driven its way into his skull. I could not fathom the extent of the damage done to his brain. His injury was great; it was very likely he was permanently brain damaged and all I had come for was lost. The ship was beginning to fall apart around me. I could move faster if I left him behind. Surely the Council would not fault me for this. He was obviously dying.

But as I looked into that face, and once again felt the last flicker of life within him, something moved me. There WAS a chance he could live, however small, in whatever condition. I could save him… I took his head in my hands and let the Force reach out. I could feel the Darkness that had claimed him, that had led him to conquer dozens of worlds and kill millions of people. At first, I recoiled in horror. How could I possibly allow a monster such as this to continue? He deserved death for all he has done! But I felt it again, that last hint of life, pulsing steadily. It was at the heart of the dark miasma that was the mind of Darth Revan; a faint spark of Light that the darkness could not smother.

I reached out, through the darkness, to take that spark and wrapped it in my own Force. I breathed life into it, the way you breathe air into a drowning man. I could feel the spark grow, slowly. Soon it became faint but steady. The darkness around it seemed to thin. I couldn't help but think of it as an analogy for the power of the Light to banish the Dark Side. I felt incredibly proud of myself at that moment, I had saved Darth Revan. Thanks to me, our first real break in the war had come at last. I gathered his limp form and carried him back to our ship.

Little did I know the price I would pay for my actions that day.

The return to Dantooine was arduous. Our little accident meant that the ship had limited capabilities. Additionally, as a cargo freighter, its medical facilities were rather inadequate to the task of maintaining Revan. Escaping was easy. With Malak's betrayal, the Titan was crippled and incapable of mounting an assault. I kept the bulk of the ravaged warship in the Leviathan's targeting sensors as cover while the navicomputer loaded the present jump coordinates for Dantooine. I was fortunate that Malak had been arrogant enough to assume his initial assault killed us all. If he had ordered the interdictor fields on his ship activated, things would have gone much more poorly.

Revan himself proved the major hurdle. It was a 30 hour trip back to the enclave and their was no life support equipment capable of maintaining him. I laid him out on one of the bunks and rested on the floor beside him. I took his hand and let myself drift into a meditative trance. I called upon what healing abilities I had to funnel as much of the Force as I could through me and into him. The spark I had felt earlier was still there, but it was still weak. I reached into his mind reluctantly at first, and found a jumbled mass of half-formed images. His mind was in chaos, possibly permanently damaged. Not knowing what to do, I just held on to him and let the Force flow through us both.

When I arrived back at the enclave, I was greeted by a team of healers, waiting at the base of the ramp. They spirited the fallen Sith away to the medical chamber on the lower levels of the Enclave. I was taken immediately to the Council chambers. As I stood there, blood and ash still caked upon my face, I told the masters what had transpired. Master Vrook, in a rare display, looked upon me with pride. "You have done well, Bastila. It is a pity he could not be taken intact, but the fact that you managed this despite everything is a testament to your dedication." At the time, that was the happiest moment of my life, not that I showed it. Master Vrook would not have approved of that at all, and I did not want to ruin that moment with an inappropriate display.

A week later, Master Vandar informed me that though the fragment of transparisteel was safely removed, but there were complications. "His mind is badly damaged, padawan. Your ministrations kept him from dying, but what is left is shattered fragments."

"Is there nothing we can do, master?" I was apprehensive. Too many good people had died for this to come to naught. Surely the Force would not allow this man to perish after all I had done to save him.

The elder Jedi bowed his head in contemplation. "There is something. It is a slim chance, but it is all we have. But it will not be easy, and we will require your assistance."

A brief mental deep breath was required before I could dare speak. "Me? What can I do that you and the others cannot?"

Master Vandar began to circle the edges of my room. "When you saved his life, Bastila, you formed a connection with him, closer than any of us could manage in such a short time. You have made inroads into his psyche that we will need to attempt to heal his mind. With you as a conduit, we hope to heal his mind, or failing that, at least grant him rudimentary abilities to care for himself."

A connection, with the Dark Lord of the Sith? That certainly did not sound endearing, but if this was what was needed to end the war it was the least I could do. "Of course, master. Whatever I can do to aid, I shall."

"Excellent. Come to the medical bay tomorrow and we shall begin." As he left, I felt the tiniest rumbiings in the Force. I knew what was about to happen would change my life. I felt that I would finally be proven to the council, and that I would be allowed to take the Trials after such a success. My life was heading exactly where I wanted it.

The procedure was long and difficult. The Masters had me join with Revan in the same sustaining trance I had used to bring him here, but this time, they were joined with me. I was merely an observer, but I could feel their power flowing through me and it was almost intoxicating. Not only that, I could feel the spark that was Revan reach out to this power.

What happened next was shocking to say the least. As their power reached that faint light it suddenly flared to life. It became a beacon, shining in the darkness. No, that wasn't right. Because the darkness wasn't abated, it too grew in depth. I had never seen someone so powerful in the Force before. The light touched me and I felt some of those memories pass through me. I saw Revan talking to his master, and elderly woman named Kreia. I saw him leading men into battle on Dxun. I saw him arguing bitterly with Malak over something I couldn't quite hear. It all rushed by me, his life, his thoughts, his power. It was overwhelming.

The touch of Master Zhar's mind reached out to me and helped me calm myself. I could… almost feel what they were thinking. It wasn't words, it wasn't images, but something in between. His mind was too badly damaged. Repairing the fractured mirror that was his memory would take months if not years. It was silently agreed to merely try and implant a basic personality so that he could live out his days in a convalescence facility on Coruscant, capable of feeding and cleaning himself if not much else.

I could not help but feel sorry for him. Even though Revan had caused all this death and destruction around us, I pitied him. To live out ones life as little more than a child mentally, all that potential, all that power wasted. He could have been the greatest of us.

I opened myself to the others as they began to try and slowly heal Revan's psyche. Yet as they worked, I sensed their growing confusion. I struggled to make sense of what was transpiring, when it became clear. His mind was healing, yet the fragments were not. We all watched in silent wonder as a new tapestry wove itself on the frame of his soul. The new image that appeared was not one of Revan, Jedi Knight or even Darth Revan, but of another person entirely!

Slowly, the masters severed their connection to me. Soon I too left my trance and looked up in amazement. "Masters, how is this possible?"

The four of them looked back and forth. Zhar and Dorak had a looks of amazement. Vander appeared thoughtful, while Vrook's brow creased in worry. "We do not know, padawan. What has happened here is unexpected and troubling. Go and rest. We will let you know of what we find." And with that, my master dismissed me.

I returned to my quarters, but I did not sleep for some time. I sat and tried to meditate on what had occurred, but I could not. Something had happened the masters had not foreseen, and it both troubled and excited me. I was witness to something amazing, even for a Jedi. My excitement was misplaced, however.

I heard nothing for the next several days, and all my gentle inquiries were rebuffed. Finally, Master Vrook summoned me before the Council. He was straight and to the point. "It would seem, Bastila, that Revan is no more. After waking up, we spoke to him, and he insists that he is Veran Shadowfyre, a scout for the Republic Exploratory Corps."

It took all my control to keep from looking too shocked. "How is this possible? Did such a man exist?"

"We do not know, which troubles us. This should not have been possible." My master sounded highly displeased.

Dorak answered my second question. "Yes. We found a dossier for one Lieutenant Veran Shadowfyre, of Derallia. He was recalled to active duty in the Republic navy as a pilot and advance scout and died when his picket ship inadvertently stumbled across Malak's outer perimeter during the engagement not far from Dagobah last month."

"Does he actually remember any of this?"

"Fortunately, no. All he recalls is the ship being hit and falling unconscious. We have persuaded him that he survived, but suffered head trauma and spent the last month in a coma from which he has just come out of."

I tilted my head in puzzlement. "But what about his appearance. Surely he will realize he does not look the same."

"We shared that concern as well, but when presented with a mirror, he seemed to find nothing amiss." Master Vander noted. "This is become stranger and stranger all the time, and yet we have no reason to believe he is not sincere. We have searched their background thoroughly. They never served together, or even met as far as we can tell. Revan and this man seem to have no connection whatsoever, other than the fact that their names seem to be an anagram of each others."

"That is good to know, masters. What will be done with him now? I'm certain he will not want to stay with us long, given his recovery. Can we risk him leaving the enclave? We should find some way to keep him under surveillance."

My master finally spoke. "Indeed, young padawan. We have had Republic records altered to reflect his current status. The bureaucrats have been convinced it was merely a clerical error, and he will be returned to active duty. From there, we will have him assigned to missions where you may keep an eye on him."

My blood turned to ice. "Me? Master, if I may be so bold, why would you assign this to me? Surely one of the other masters would be better suited to such a task."

Vandar stepped forward. "We have selected you because we have sensed that a bond has formed between you and Revan. Our attempt to heal his mind strengthened the connection your life-saving action formed, and now we feel the two of you are linked, much as master and apprentice sometimes are."

I had heard of such things, but never experienced it personally. Master Vrook was very careful to stay distant and detached as a mentor. "Can this connection not be severed?"

"With time and distance, we believe it would eventually fade, though nothing is certain. I understand your reluctance in this, Bastila, but we require your cooperation, since this does, however, present us with the chance we have been searching for."

"A chance for what, Master? If his memory is gone, then what use is he to us?"

"The mind is not always as clear-cut as medical science would have us believe. There is a chance that much of his knowledge is still buried within his subconscious mind, as flashes and vague half-memories. Given that you are now attuned to each other, there is a chance you can pull some much needed clues from him."

"Your new mission is this, Bastila: Assume command of the Republic ship, the Endar Spire, and rendezvous with the Republic 7th Fleet. We will assign Veran aboard as an advisor to your party. Hopefully, as the fleet pursues the Sith, things will become clearer. If not, then we have lost nothing more than some effort. Understood?"

"Yes, Master. I am honored to serve the Council thus. I shall make ready to leave at once."

Master Vrook nodded to me. "Watch him carefully, Bastila. Even without his memory, he is still Force Sensitive. If he should show any sign of returning to his old self, report it immediately. Do whatever is necessary to keep the Dark Lord from rising again."

"Understood, Master." As I left, I began to look forward to the assignment. Not only was I being given command of a ship, but I was given the task of unlocking the mind of the one of the most powerful Jedi who had ever lived. With successful completion of this assignment, I would surely be given my Knighthood!

I was such an ambitious, arrogant fool…


	3. Chapter 2 History Doesn't Need To Know

Hearts Eye View, Chapter Two (Revised) - History Doesn't Need to Know Everything 

Chapter Two – History Doesn't Need to Know Everything

I left immediately to rendezvous' with the Endar Spire. Ostensibly a Republic vessel, it was given over to my direct command by request of the Jedi Council on Coruscant. My entourage was made up of two other Jedi, several droids, and of course, Veran, who was transferred to the ship as an advisor, not that he knew that. He was led to believe it was his next assignment. I made sure he got assigned rooms with someone who worked the opposite shift to ensure that questions were kept to a minimum.

Shortly after I arrived on board, I was met by Commander Carth Onasi. The Endar Spire would have been his ship to command normally, but with the war against the Sith, he was delegated to the position of military advisor to the vessel's new captain: me. Some would have been resentful of such a usurpation of their authority, but Onasi took it with true professionalism.

"Master Jedi, welcome aboard the Endar Spire," he said, as he strode into the briefing room. "I trust you find everything satisfactory?" He was older than me, I'd say in his late 30s. I wanted to ask him if his trimmer was malfunctioning, given the haphazard facial hair he exhibited, but I thought better of it. Instead of the standard duty uniform, he was dressed in a yellow-orange duty jacket given to ace pilots. Yet despite all this, he carried himself with an easy air of authority. I was glad he would be at my side during what was to come.

I could not tell anyone else this, but I often felt uncomfortable in my role as leader. Jedi were trained as peacekeepers, mediators, and enforcers of the law, not warriors. I did not like knowing that I was sending people to their deaths. I tried to comfort myself with the knowledge that my presence would mean that more might make it home alive, thanks to my gifts. Still, I was not destined to be a military leader, but I could not show this to the rank and file, who looked up to Jedi as legendary figures.

"Indeed, commander. Everything is quite satisfactory. I trust the crew has no qualms about our presence here?" I held myself up, hands folded behind my back. An air of supreme self-confidence was needed to keep soldiers in line. If their leaders were timid and unsure, they would be unsure themselves.

Carth immediately held himself at attention when he noticed my posture. Excellent. "No, ma'am. They understand that you are to be command, and that I am military liaison. I do have one question, if I may."

A curt nod was given. "Go ahead."

He shifted his weight from one foot to another. "I'm concerned about these personnel you've ordered aboard. I can understand the need for more troops, but a few of these seem… out of place."

"Such as?" Eyes narrowing, I could see where this was headed.

"Well, there's this scout for one. Shadowfyre, I think his name was? No offense, master Jedi, but we're headed for Taris to re-supply and then to rendezvous with the main fleet. Why do we need an explorer along?"

I let the cool control of a Jedi creep into my voice. "Commander, we may be called to venture off the standard hyperspace routes during this war. Also, Taris is on the Outer Rim. We requested his presence because he may have invaluable knowledge about the Outer Rim and beyond. Also, it never hurts to have another skilled pilot on board, wouldn't you agree?" I played to his military sensibilities and the collective ego all pilots across the galaxy seemed to share.

He held my gaze as if he were trying to read my mind for a moment. If he had been Force Sensitive, perhaps he could have. I did feel the faintest flicker of the Force in him, but it was like a single star in the heavens. He was not gifted to use the Force, but perhaps his descendants would be. I made a note to mention him to the masters, so they could track his bloodline for potential recruits in the future.

I felt something, a tremor. There was more to this than he was letting on. I moved to sit at the head of the briefing table, and he followed suit. "What is it about this man that truly concerns you, commander?" A simple transfer should not be that uncommon among the fleet.

His eyes glanced down at the tabletop. I was right. "I don't… like to discuss it."

"I could make it an order."

He flinched at that. Whatever it was, it troubled him deeply. "I take it you have not read my file then?"

I shook my head once. "No, I have not familiarized myself with the crew." To be honest, I had seen no need to. Why learn the names and faces of those who might die in mere days? I had studied Revan's logs from the Mandalorian War en route to the ship. While his tactics were ruthless and brutal, I could not help but agree with one passage. 'It is difficult, this war, sending men off to die. To lead them well, you have to know them, but that makes their deaths hurt all the more. I need to hold myself at a distance, regard them as nothing but mindless droids or faceless Mandalorians in their armor. That is the only way I can succeed.'

He swallowed as though he was trying to ingest a large stone. "My home world is Telos. I served with Revan and Malak during the Mandalorian War under Admiral Saul Karath."

I knew that name! He was the one who led the survivors who did not go with Revan back to the Republic. He and his men were given commendations, at least before Karath and some of his men defected to Darth Revan's side at the outset of this war. This man across from me was a war veteran and hero of the highest order. I suddenly felt much better about our chances. Then everything fell into place.

"Telos, the world bombarded by Admiral Karath under orders from Darth Malak. Your commanding officer betrayed you and attacked your world."

"Not just my commanding officer. He was my friend, my mentor. He tried to convince me that the Sith were going to win this war, and that I was on the wrong side. I argued with him and he stormed off. He defected later that night."

"Hell, I might as well tell you everything. It's all there in my file." With that he took braced himself and raised his eyes to look at me for the first time since sitting down. "Saul is not only responsible for the assault on Telos, but for the death of my wife and son."

I felt my heart go out to this man, who had lost everything to such base treachery. It was no wonder he was distrustful. I placed my hand on his arm. I knew this was where a master would have said something profound and comforting. "We will stop them." It was all I could think of. I felt ashamed that I could not offer something more to this man. He just looked up at me with this glare in his eyes. "I hope so."

"Do not let yourself be consumed by thoughts of revenge, commander." With that, I stood up and smoothed my outfit. "We will be at Taris in 6 hours. I trust you can handle the re-supply. I am going to retire for the evening. Call me should something come up."

My quarters were larger than what I was used to back on Dantooine. I'm sure by civilian standards these would be considered somewhat cramped, but most did not live with the Jedi. I should have meditated, but I was tired. I shed my dueling leathers and laid down on the bunk. Pulling the sheet around me, I began to drift off, wondering if Revan was doing the same a few decks down.

I was awoken by the shuddering of the ship as alarms began to sound. As a Jedi, I was trained to be able to be at the ready, even after deep sleep. Before I could even fully comprehend my actions, I was pulling on my clothes and fastening my lightstaff to my belt. I hastened my way to the bridge. There, I found Carth barking orders to the startled crew. "Dammit, keep formation! If the ships scatter, we're dead. Can't we get the fighters scrambled?"

One of the ensigns looked up from his console. Even from this distance, I could practically feel the tension in his voice. "No sir, there isn't enough time! The Valorous and the Intrepid have been badly damaged."

I came up beside the commander. Unlike the rest of the bridge crew, he was calm under fire. The only emotions coming off him were determination, and annoyance, as if the Sith had merely interrupted his favorite holovid. "Master Jedi. I don't suppose you have any Force tricks that could save our collective butts?"

"I do have one 'trick', as you so quaintly call it, though it will take some time for it to have effect. What is our current situation?"

Carth shook his head. "We were approaching Taris when a Sith fleet came out from around the moon as we approached. We're caught between the fleet and the planet. We had pulled our fighters back in for the approach, and they've got us outflanked. As you just heard, the other ships have been disabled."

Another officer shouted back to us from the front. "Enemy fighters coming in!"

"How many?" Carth and I asked the question in unison.

"A… at least six squadrons! They're s…swarming us! Also reading 6 boarding pods inbound!" The quiet fear in his voice became a trembling stutter that heralded the near panic that began to sweep the bridge. They were going to storm the ship rather than simply destroy it the way they had our sister ships. That meant only one thing: they knew I was here. How, I had no idea, but Darth Malak must have ordered them to capture me.

Before I could issue an order, Carth spoke up. "Alright people. Hold it together." He turned to face me. "We need to abandon ship, Bastila. We can't survive if we stay here. On Taris, we might be able to slip away on a tramp freighter."

I considered arguing that my Battle Meditation could turn the tide, but I could tell from the look in his eyes that if he declared the battle lost, then it must be. I turned and faced the crew. "All hands, abandon ship. Sound the evacuation alarm. Evacuate the ship in an orderly fashion."

The crew seemed to hesitate, looking back and forth at each other. "You heard her! Move out!" The order was given a moment too later. The bridge went up in smoke and sparks as a fighter tore past the viewport, dealing a glancing blow to the forward deck. When my vision cleared, several of the crewmen were laying dead on the deck.

Carth grabbed my shoulder and led me to the starboard exit. Within moments, he had me at the central escape pod bay. He practically had to push me into the pod. "What about you?" I called back.

"I'll head the defense of the ship, until everyone is evacuated. I'll be on the last pod." He gave me a faint smile. "I know the captain is supposed to go down with the ship, but we both know your loss would be almost as good to Malak as capturing you."

So he knew that this entire trap was for me. Once again, people were dying because of me. "Make sure you get Veran and the others off the ship. We'll rendezvous and try and find a way offworld."

I could not miss the odd look Carth gave me. He was obviously wondering why I felt Veran was so important, but we both knew I did not have time to answer his questions. "May the Force be with you, Carth Onasi. I feel we will meet again."

He bit off a laugh. "I hope you're right. Don't worry about your friend. I'll be sure he makes it out with me." With that, he stabbed a button on the outer panel and the hatch shut. With a muffled blast, I felt the escape pod shoot free.

The trip down to Taris was not gentle. The pod passed through a stray blast as a fighter tried to shoot me down. The reentry thrusters were damaged and instead of a gentle crash into the upper levels of the city, the pod plummeted through the immense city. The last thing I felt was the massive smashing sensation of what must have been the pod breaking through the thin artificial crust that separated the Lower City from the Undercity. Despite being strapped into a device designed to cushion landing impact, I found myself surrendering to unconsciousness.

I awoke to the throbbing pain in my head. As I shook my senses clear, I took a survey of my condition. I touched my head and found no blood, so I must have had a mild concussion. I had not yet learned how to focus the Force to accelerate healing and clear the blood, so I was unable to clear my head quickly. I unfastened myself from the chair I was in. I felt for my lightsaber and found it missing. I glanced around for it, but did not see it.

There was a haze of smoke from a burning control panel. It was minor inconvenience, but it was keeping me from seeing or breathing clearly, which made the pain in my head worse. I opened the pod hatch to clear the air and found myself staring into the barrel of a blaster. I looked past it to a group of about five aliens of various types, mainly Klatuu, Twi'lek, and Rodian. They all wore jumpsuits and clothing of similar style and coloring, so I could only assume I had been stumbled across by some pedestrian street gang. I tried to move back into the pod, so I could make another quick search for my lightsaber, but the thugs were faster than my hindered reflexes, and I was rendered unconscious again by a stun blast from the blaster that had been in my face moments before.

I don't know how long it was before I regained consciousness, but I had the vaguest memory of dreaming I was back on the Titan, fighting Revan's apprentices as we entered the bridge. I didn't know what it meant at the time, I merely thought it was an odd memory to revisit. As my head cleared, I realized that the pain in my head was gone. I opened my eyes, and found myself strapped down to a medical bunk. As the last of the haze cleared, I felt a thin metal color around my neck.

Taking stock of the room, I noticed that it was ill-kept. There was grime everywhere, and much of the paneling was stained and cracked. The door opened and in walked a man, I'd say he was no older than 25 years. He had dark skin and a military-like buzzcut. He spoke with a high-pitched sneering voice. "Good! You're awake. I hope my doctor fixed your wounds."

I tried to raise my head, but found I couldn't muster the strength to do so. Something was wrong. "Who are you?" The sound that croaked forth from my throat barely sounded like myself.

"I am Brejik. I lead the Black Vulkars, the strongest swoop gang on the face of Taris. You are a Republic officer, and Jedi, if I'm not mistaken." He held up the hilt of my lightstaff. "Oh, if you're wondering why you can't move, that's the neural restraint collar. I have it on setting three. You can speak, but you shouldn't have enough strength to move, unless I will it."

"What value am I to you? Let me go." I reached out with my mind and tried to influence his thoughts, but I could not summon the will. I had heard of these collars; a classic slavers' tool. They could also be used to keep a Jedi prisoner. My situation had gone from bad to worse.

"What value? I'll tell you what value" He walked over to my bed and ran his hand down the side of my face. I would not have given him the satisfaction of shuddering beneath his touch. "Such a skilled and beautiful woman is hard to come by, especially here in the Lower City. You'll make a find addition to the Vulkar share of the victory prize for this year's opening swoop race, slave."

With the emphasis put on that final word, that disgusting man kissed me. I bit him for his effrontery, but he only laughed as he pulled back. "You have spirit! Good, that means you'll be even more fun to break!" He reached down to an armband he wore and touched a control. I suddenly found it even more difficult to focus my thoughts as I slowly slid down into a never-ending grey haze.

The Force was with me, as apparently I was secreted away from the gang as a whole. It took days of meditating, gathering the Force little by little, as much of my will was sapped by the collar. My awareness was limited, but I would have felt any attempts at torture or worse. The worst I had to endure was another slave stripping me, cleaning me up, and dressing me again in some kind of tight revealing slave girl outfit. It took days of meditating, gathering the Force little by little, as much of my will was sapped by the collar. It wasn't until the day of the Taris Open swoop race, that I had the power to finally rip the collar from my neck. I was only dimly aware of my surroundings, but I heard that megalomaniacal brat.

"People, hear me! Before I present the so-called champion of the Beks his victory prize, there is something you all need to know. The winning rider cheated!" I could hear the uproar in the crowd as the new champion confronted Brejik.

"You're a damned liar!" said a voice I had never heard before, yet it sounded so familiar.

Brejik continued his little tirade. "Your swoop bike was using a prototype accelerator; clearly an unfair advantage. Because of this Hidden Bek treachery, I am withdrawing the Vulkars' share of the victory prize!"

A voice speaking in Duro tried to interject. "You can't do this, Brejik! You know the rules: nobody is allowed to withdraw a victory prize after the race! It goes against all our most sacred traditions!"

"You old fool!" I didn't need to see him to know he was wearing the same, arrogant, smug sneer he had when I saw him. "Your traditions mean nothing to me! I am the wave of the future! If I wish to take this woman and sell her on the slave market myself, no one can stop me!"

I knew this was my chance, so summoning all the strength I had gathered, I burst free, threw my guard across the walkway, and called his double-bladed vibrosword to my hand. "I might have something to say about that, Brejik." I must say, the look of shock on his face was almost worth my time in that damn collar.

"Impossible!" he stumbled back, this look of terror in his eyes. He knew what was coming. "You were restrained by a neural disruptor! How could you have possibly summoned the will to free yourself!"

"You underestimate the strength of a Jedi's mind." I spun my newfound weapon in an intimidating twirl as I strode toward him. "A mistake you won't live to regret." And with that, I charged this diminutive little wretch.

With a high-pitched shrill he called out to his men. "Vulkars, to me! Kill the woman! Kill the swoop rider! Kill them all!"

I reached him in a heartbeat. He drew his blaster and aimed it at me, but I was already too close. Before he could fall back, I drove blade into his chest all the way to the hilt. I looked in his eyes as they widened. I think that was the beginning of my fall, in both senses of the word. As much as I would deny to everyone, including myself, I could not suppress a smug sneer of my own as a trickle of blood begin to flow from his mouth and down his chin. When he collapsed to the ground and rattled his last breath, may the Council forgive me, I felt happy. I buried that feeling down, deep inside me. No one would ever know what joy the death of that evil little man had given me.

"Maybe that will teach the Vulkars to think twice before attempting to hold a Jedi prisoner. As for you, if you think you can collect me as a pri…" As I turned to inform my fellow combatant, the winner of the swoop race that he was to be greatly disappointed as I was no one's prize, I received the greatest shock of my life. My would-be rescuer was none other than Revan! No longer in the standard gear of a Republic soldier, he was clad in some kind of black and silver armor, Cinnagar in design if I wasn't mistaken. He held a vibroblade in his hand, stained wit the blood of the other Vulkars. His shoulder-length hair was matted down with sweat to the back of his neck. He was breathing rapidly, with that flush that always comes with battle.

Something leapt in my chest as I first saw him. It was unnerving. If I had a lesser control over my emotions, I would have been breathing rapidly myself but not from exertion. I had never had a crush, as such interactions were forbidden in the Enclave. I had, of course, studied on such things. Master Vrook had advised me what to be on guard for, as to not slip. I knew from the way my pulse threatened to race out of control, from the fact that I almost stammered and blushed when I saw him. Why was this happening now? And why him! It must be that bond, yes that's what it must be. I couldn't leave myself open like this. With time and control, this would go away. I immediately allowed all my training to come to the front, and let the cool calm that I had worked long to perfect to come over me.

To the credit of my training, I let nothing more than mild shock show, which I covered as recognition. "You! It can't be! You…you're one of the soldier's with the Republic fleet, aren't you? Yes, I'm sure of it! How did you wind up racing for these swoop gangs?"

"I'm Veran Shadowfyre; I'm here to save you." He said it with such sincerity I almost laughed.

"Rescue me? Is that what you called riding in that swoop race? As far as rescues go, it was a pretty poor example. As you can see, I did not need your help. In fact, I think it's safer to say that I rescued you." I succinctly informed him. The look on his face as I said those words was one of incredulousness. Despite who this man once was, he was no longer a Jedi, and it would not do to admit weakness. I can see now why I wrapped myself in my own pride and arrogance. I wanted to prove myself to him, to this man who was once the pinnacle of the Jedi Order, and its greatest enemy. "Brejik and his Vulkars would have left you for dead if I hadn't been here. You're lucky I was able to get you out of this mess."

The look of surprise quickly turned to one of annoyance. "I think you're confused. You were a helpless prisoner until I came along, lady."

This man was actually trying to lecture me! Of all the arrogant bravado! "I may have been a prisoner, but a Jedi is never helpless. Maybe you've heard of a little thing called the Force?" He just shook his head in exasperation. "But I suppose I shouldn't be too hard on you. You did try to rescue me, after all, even if things didn't go exactly as planned. Now, lets get down to business: are there any other survivors?"

Revan… Veran, I mean; I really should get used to calling him that; nodded. "We aren't the only survivors. Carth Onasi is with us, as well."

I let loose a sigh of relief. "Carth is alive? Finally, some good news! He's proven himself a hero a dozen times over." I could also imagine the trouble he's given Veran if he's still half as suspicious of him as he was before our evacuation. "He sent you here to save me? Maybe I misjudged you. Carth would not have sent you if he was not confident in your abilities. Forgive me. Despite my Jedi training, I sometimes act a bit rashly."

A faint smile, almost a smirk, appeared on his face. Over the weeks and months I would come to both hate and love that expression. "I understand, Master Jedi. I can't imagine what the last few days have been like for you. I know how scum like this treats their prisoners."

"Brejik considered me too valuable to be a toy for him and his men. Unblemished, he felt I would be worth more," I said with scorn in my voice. I glanced up at him and saw this look of sorrow and sympathy in his eyes. Master Vrook had told me they had given me a new personality, but I had no idea what to expect. Of course, the Council would have given him a sympathetic and humane identity. But in my mind, I still saw the black-robed figure that had led the Sith to victory after victory. Until that moment, I had not really believed that Veran was a completely different person than Darth Revan. It made me wish I had known him before his fall.

At that moment, I had a kind of vision. My sight blurred and suddenly I was back on the bridge of the Titan, but this time I was facing myself, standing across the walkway, my lightsaber at the ready. I heard myself say, "You cannot win, Revan!" followed by a sense of an explosion occurring behind me, then the vision faded. I had witnessed that battle, and it could only have been through Revan's eyes! I felt a panic inside, but my training took control, and I quickly suppressed the incident. This was neither the time nor the place to worry about such things.

I blinked and looked away and brought my thoughts back to matters at hand. "Please, take me to Carth right away. Between the three of us, we should be able to find a way to escape Taris before the Sith realize we're here." With a sharp nod, he turned and led me to their apartment base of operations, where I was pleased to see Carth.

Carth seemed as relieved to see me as I was him. "Bastila! You're alive! Finally, things are looking up. Now we just need to find a way off this planet."

"You mean you don't have a way to get off Taris? What have you been doing while I was captured!" It was silly to react like that, but meeting Veran had shaken me, much more than I was willing to admit at the time. My emotional control was not what it should have been. Master Vrook would have admonished me severely for such a slip.

"We were trying to find you, remember?" Veran snapped at me.

I glanced over at him. "Really? Now that I'm back in charge of this mission, perhaps we can start doing things properly. I'm sure our escape from Taris will go more smoothly than when you 'rescued' me from Brejik."

Carth stepped up between us. "Look, Bastila, I know you're pretty new at this, but a leader doesn't berate her troops just because things aren't going as planned. Don't let your ego get in the way here."

That comment was like a slap in the face, because he was right. I didn't want to admit however, especially not in front of this man. The Council had entrusted him to me, and I had to keep his respect if anything could be done. "That hardly strikes me as a way to address your commanding officer, Carth. I am a member of the Jedi Order and this is my mission. Remember that! My Battle Meditation has helped the Republic many times in this war, and I'm sure it will help us here."

Carth just shook his head in exasperation the same way Veran had done back at the swoop track. "Your talents might win us a few battles, but that doesn't make you a good leader. A good leader would at least listen to advice from someone whose seen more combat than she ever will."

At this point, Veran stepped forward. "Both of you, that's enough! We have to work together if we're going to get of this planet."

I took a deep breath and re-centered myself. "You're right, of course. I apologize, Carth. This is a difficult time for me. Of course, I will listen to your advice. What do you think we should do?"

We could all feel the tension being to bleed out of the room, and the thickness of the air began to thin. "First of all, we can't get hung up on who's in charge here; we all need to work together if we want to get off this rock."

I nodded once and looked back and forth between the two men. "Well said, Carth. I think we'll need some help finding a way off Taris. I suggest we look in the cantinas. Maybe one of the locals can help us out."

Carth nodded and moved to make ready to leave. I glanced at Veran and noticed him looking at me hesitantly, a question in his eyes. "Is something troubling you?"

He opened his mouth but no sound emanated from it for several moments. "Something weird happened when we first met; like a vision."

My blood turned to ice water. I carefully controlled the tone of my voice to prevent anything other than a calm cool disinterest from entering it. "A vision? A vision of what?"

"Of you, fighting a Dark Jedi. Revan, I think."

I could think of no curse foul enough to properly summarize my feelings at that moment. The bond we shared was enough to allow unconscious memory sharing. The question was, was it my memory or his? Regardless, Veran needed an answer and I would have to give him one.

"This is… strange. Such visions are often a sign of Force Sensitivity."

This caught his attention. "Are you saying I can use the Force?"

Blast it, this was not happening! "I… I'm not sure. You may have some connection to the Force. Such things are not unheard of. When we first met your natural talent may have fed off my own Force abilities."

I turned away as if contemplating what this could mean. I was, but not the way Veran would expect. I did not want him to see the worry in my eyes. "It is possible that in the excitement of the battle's aftermath, the Force may have allowed you to witness one of my more intense memories."

"So does this mean I could be a Jedi?" I could hear both the excitement and concern in his voice.

"The Force is complicated. Even I, with all my training, do not fully understand it. This is a matter best left to the wisdom of the Jedi Masters." I turned to look at him again, my own anxieties once again fully under control. "Once we escape Taris, we can seek the guidance of the Council if you wish. They will be able to explain the significance of your vision… if there is any." I had to quickly amend myself before I said too much. Surely the masters would consider him to dangerous to train a second time.

"However, I think it would be best if we stayed focus on the task at hand right now. We cannot afford any distractions; we must find a way off Taris."

Veran nodded. "You're right, of course. Thank you, Bastila." He turned and busied himself, cleaning his vibroblades. I sat in silent meditation until the whirlwind that was Mission Vao and Zaalbar returned from a food run.

"Hey! Is this Bastila? You guys found her, huh? Guess that means we need more food, right, Big Z?"

"I am Bastila Shan, yes. And you are?" I stood up to introduce myself, but I should have realized such formal behavior was unnecessary.

Mission was a young, blue-skinned Twi'lek, no older than 15 years if I had to guess, who had apparently grown up on the streets of Taris. Zaalbar was her Wookie companion. Apparently the two of them looked after each other. It was an odd pair, but I could tell they were comfortable with each other.

Before I could even ask, Mission introduced herself and began telling me the story of how they all met. The girl was so excited I can't even begin to chronicle her exact words here. Suffice to say, they first all met in Javyar's Cantina, a Lower City dive, but they did not join forces until Zaalbar had been abducted by Gamorrean slavers and taken into the sewers. I winced at that part of the story, so close to my own trial. I also knew the conditions on Kashyyyk, the Wookie homeworld, and the corporate slavery they endured as a people. It must have been horrible for him.

By the end of her energetic recounting, Veran and Carth helped Mission free Zalbaar, who promptly swore a life debt to Veran. I could not help but wonder if the Wookie would have sworn such a solemn vow if he knew who this man really was. I also could not help but wonder how he had managed to garner the respect from these three beings so quickly. These two would obviously follow Veran into death. It was obvious even Carth, the war veteran, was deferring to Veran more often than not. Revan, it seems, had lost none of his charisma. I was glad for the assistance, but I knew I needed to get off-world more than ever now. Revan was no longer in a controlled environment, and I could not shake this fear of what was to come.


	4. Chapter 3 Escape from Taris

**Hearts Eye View - Chapter Three**

**Escape from Taris**

In short order, we found the help we desperately needed. An unscrupulous Mandalorian mercenary named Canderous Ordo was willing to betray his current master, the crime lord Davik Kang, and wanted us to help him. If it had been up to me, I would have left him to rot on this world with his master, but Veran thought this was the quickest (and least likely anticipated) way offworld. Carth and I reluctantly agreed.

The "catch" was that we needed 2,000 credits to pay for a droid to slice past the security of the Sith military base so we could acquire the pass code to clear the blockade of this world. No mean feat and we were a bit short on funds. Rev… I mean Veran decided again for the expedient route and finish his career in the Dueling Rings of Taris with a flourish. It seemed one Bendak Starkiller had a price on his head for his penchant for death matches and the only way to face him was in the dueling ring. Aside from becoming Taris' premiere swoop racer, he also became the Taris Dueling Champion while on his quest to find me. This impressed Bendak enough for him to accept a challenge.

Over my very stringent protests that we had more important things to do than go bounty-hunting, Veran insisted. The prize money from the betting, and the bounty itself would put us well over the amount we needed to purchase the droid and re-supply for our entry into the base. He was stubborn and headstrong. It seems that he kept some of Revan's traits after all. This also made me fearful that he might start down the path of darkness again. The masters say once you start down the dark path, it will forever dominate your destiny. I suppose this was true, memory or not. Did we do the right thing? Or did we only give him a second chance at darkness? That thought would eat away at me for the next few days.

The day came for the deathmatch. I continued to protest, as often as possible. It had little impact except other than drive everyone to frustration. We weren't even allowed into the arena; just to watch on the monitors. I had hoped to use the Force to adjudicate the battle, but at this distance only my Battle Meditation would have been possible, and it had little effect on such a small skirmish.

I must confess, I was beginning to worry. Veran was important to the war effort, in his own way. To lose him on such a petty endeavor seemed… wrong.

The duel opened with Bendak lobbing a pair of plasma grenades at Veran, who deftly rolled forward, closing the distance between himself and the armored assailant. The two crossed vibroblades and the duel began in earnest. Veran soon slipped out a second blade and slipped into a new fighting style. I had no idea he was skilled in that particular method of dueling. It was most difficult, but he handled it deftly. Where Bendak hacked and attacked with a brutal efficiency, Veran spun, parried and whirled around his attacker with the grace of a Jedi.

It shouldn't have surprised me. It is common knowledge, even with memory loss, the body remembers instinctually things like combat reflexes. He was mesmerizing. Bendak was truly in a fight. Even armored as Mandalorian, head to toe, you could tell he was enjoying it. This malicious man lived for battle, so much so, that I do believe he may have been a Mandalorian. And like those warriors, he was cunning.

As they locked blades, Bendak kicked Veran in the knee, driving him off-balance and then slammed him in the face with the hilt of his blade, knocking him down. He immediately took an overhead pose, preparing to finish Veran off. Without realizing, I sharply pulled in a breath of air and moved forward towards the screen. No! was the only thought in my head. Veran kicked up, nailing Bendak in his groin. The armor absorbed most of the impact, but it still threw him off.

Veran kicked himself back up took the smaller of his two blades, and threw it with all his might. Bendak looked up but didn't react quite quickly enough, and the vibroblade drove itself into his throat. He just stood there for a moment, even over the feed, you could almost hear him gurgle. Then he fell over dead.

The crowds, both in the arena and here at the cantina, went wild. The announcer cried out, "It's over, it's over, the fight is OVER! Bendak Starkiller is down! Bendak Starkiller is dead!" I looked back over at Carth and saw him looking at me with this curious expression. It was then I realized, that I had been holding my breath for the last few moments of the fight. I replayed it in my head and realized that rather brief if emotional display. I was in obvious need of meditation. My emotional control was obviously beginning to slip. Still, it was only natural to be concerned for a comrade-in-arms, was it not? This man was my charge; to let him die would reflect poorly on me. My concern was for the mission.

Wasn't it?

After the duel, we collected the winnings from Ajurr the Hutt, then promptly down to Zax's office in Javyar's cantina down in the Lower City to collect the bounty on Bendak Starkiller. With both rewards in hand, we were able to afford the astromech droid the Mandalorian mercenary, Canderous Ordo, had suggested we buy to crack the security on the Sith military base.

Janice Nall, the Twi'lek droid engineer, was surprised we had come to pick up the droid, but the sight of 2,000 credits did enough to squelch any questions she had. The little droid, T3-M4, was a highly advanced astromech. I had rarely seen this particular variant, even serving on the Endar Spire. The T3 series was very new, and this one had obviously been further modified for… illicit activities. Despite its less than savory origins, T3 seemed to have that rather irreverent attitude that comes with all state of the art droids. It was very friendly, and had little compunction about slicing into an encrypted military system. We were finally on our way.

Not that it mattered much where I was concerned. Both Re… Veran. Must refer to him as Veran. The slightest slip of the tongue would cause untold problems. Veran and Carth pointed out a problem I had not yet considered.

Veran was the first to speak. "Uh, Bastila? I hate to be the one to bring this up, but you can't come with us."

I slowly turned and looked at him, giving him an icy glare. "What do you mean?"

"We're going to have to break into a Sith military facility. Having along someone whose face has been flashed on every Most Wanted update for the last few days isn't going to make things easy."

"Nonsense. The mission is undoubtedly going to mean encountering a true Sith, not just their foot soldiers. You'll need me along to deal with them. You cannot honestly expect to stand up to someone who wields the power of the Force."

Veran bristled at my comment. My tone was harsh, and derisive. He looked about to cut back, when Carth jumped in.

"We know the risks, Bastila, but we want to do this as low-key as possible, and the moment any security cam spots you, the whole place is going to come down on our heads. Without you, we have a chance to get in and out with a minimum of fuss."

"Besides, I think you need to give us non-Jedi a little credit. After all, we did rescue you from the Vulkars," Veran shot back. Carth winced visibly, and I, unfortunately, took the bait.

"Need I remind you that I freed myself without your assistance? Brejik would have killed you without my assistance. I understand your need to bolster your ego by claiming things happened a bit differently, I assure you, you help was not needed."

"Well in that case, why don't you go storm the base all by yourself! I'm sure your vastly superior Jedi powers will sweep away all in your path! I can just go down to the cantina, kick up my feet, and let my adoring fans buy me a few rounds!"

"You insufferable…! The ability to ride a swoop at insane speeds and put ones life in danger for mere monetary gain is insignificant next to the power of the Force! We are talking about the fate of the galaxy!" I could feel myself growing angry. Why? This was foolish of me! It was then that I realized that I could feel some faint trace of the anger in him, and it was feeding my own. Clearly this bond was more dangerous than the council realized. His darkness could corrupt even me, if we were not careful.

At this point, Carth stepped in. "Simmer down, you two. Look this bickering won't get us anywhere. Veran, she's right. We have to look at the bigger picture here. The same goes for you, Bastila. Put your pride away, and accept the fact that we're all partners in this."

Ashamed by this, I backed down. "Of course, you're right, Carth."

Veran nodded but kept his eyes on me. The look on his face was… mixed. I couldn't tell what he was feeling. He had locked himself down, and somehow this was even blocking the nascent emotional connection our bond had given us. Could he have felt it too? He couldn't know what it meant. But he was going to be asking more questions. I had to get him back to Dantooine, and soon…

I let them go. Carth didn't leave me much choice. He took Veran and T3 and went after the military base. They were gone for hours. Mission and Zaalbar left to go find food, as they were the only ones who could wander freely without attracting too much attention. Alone in that small apartment, I paced restlessly.

My discipline was slipping. It had to be this thrice-cursed bond with Revan. It slipped past my emotional barriers, and opened a hole in them I did not need. Master Vrook constantly told me that my control was not sufficient. I needed to reinforce my control; shore up my walls. I knelt in meditation, trying to find my center, that place where I was at peace and could become one with the Force.

I don't know how much time passed. Time always blurs in a meditative trance. It can be used to replace sleep for short periods of time. I felt out my bond with Revan. I could feel his anxiousness, his exhilaration in battle. I could feel the Force sing through him as he fought whatever opponent stood in his way. I could also feel the tendrils of the darkness within him, lurking just beneath the surface.

It chilled me. I knew the kernel of the Light within him had broken through the dark cloud that once dominated him, but some of it still clung. The potential was there. The Dark Side had not completely left one of its most powerful followers. I couldn't help but think of the power he had amassed so quickly. Here he had been, only a Knight, and yet in the space of two years, he had become one of the most powerful Dark Lords ever. For a moment, I could not help but wonder at how he had fallen, and how he had gained such power. I had studied for most of my life, and was still only considered a Padawan…

No! Thoughts such as these were dangerous. Surely Revan and Malak had similar thoughts before they started down their bloody path. I would not make such a mistake. Unlike the willful Revan, I would follow the dictates of the council. I was not so arrogant as to question their wisdom.

Suddenly I felt a sharp pain course through my body and pierce me, deep in my meditative state. I felt the bond fade to what seemed like nothingness. I collapsed onto the floor, sweating, barely able to breathe. Something must have happened! Could he be dead? NO! I should have gone! I could not have failed him like that! I could not have failed the council! He was my charge, I was to protect him! I tried to reach out, but then another sharp pain lanced through me and I blacked out.

I regained consciousness, and was confused. The pain had passed, but the bond was very weak. It was still there though. Surely he still lives! I got up and gathered myself. A few minutes later, the door to the apartment hissed open. Carth came in, followed by Zaalbar, Mission and T3. Zaalbar carried a badly wounded Re… VERAN damn it… his fur matted with blood.

I rushed forward as Zaalbar lowered Veran to a bunk. I could make out a couple of deep slash wounds across his chest.

"You were right, Bastila. There was a Sith there, apparently the Governor. He didn't have a lightsaber, so Veran charged in, thinking he could take him. He held his own for a few moments, but that spawn of a Hutt got under his guard. He was too cocky. Hell, we both were. As soon as Veran went down, he came after me. My blasters only work so well at close range. He would have finished me off if T3 hadn't nailed him with a stun blast. We ran out of kolto medkits dealing with the sentry droids, and I had nothing to stabilize him with. I got him out of the base, and ran into Mission and Zaalbar who helped me get him back here."

I immediately pulled out a medkit I had kept in reserve for myself and went to work on his wounds, applying the kolto to the deep lacerations. This would seal the wounds and halt the blood loss, even deal with some of the internal bleeding. As I did this, I made sure Carth took the full brunt of my fury over this debacle.

"You couldn't be bothered to listen to a single thing I told you, could you? I'm sure you charged into battle with your typical male bravado! Why, I don't know, as you had no one to try and impress! Perhaps you thought T3 would swoon at your manly swagger! At least the droid had more sense and tactical planning than the two of you put together! If it hadn't been for him, you'd both be dead, and we'd be stranded. Next time I hope you at least attempt to think before you act. You never know when your actions will cost someone their life!"

Carth recoiled at my words as if he had been physically struck. I didn't know then… though it would not have made a difference. I was upset, angry. I wanted to lash out, and hurt him I succeeded admirably.

"You're right, Bastila." He stiffened visibly. "I should go get some more medical supplies. We'll need them." He turned and walked swiftly from the apartment.

Mission looked back and forth during the exchange. As Carth hurried out, she called "Hey, Carth! Wait up!" Zaalbar followed quickly behind her, leaving me alone with the injured R…. Veran and T3-M4. I couldn't blame her for leaving. There wasn't anything she could do regardless.

I tended Veran's wounds. His body was accepting the kolto, which was a good sign. The bleeding had already stopped, and the kolto would neutralize any infection already present, as well as seal the wound close, and speed the healing process. There was always a risk of kolto rejection, or some kind of allergic reaction if too much is taken in too short a time. If nothing went wrong in the next 15 minutes, he would likely survive.

I let out a slow breath, and tucked my braids back behind my ears. I looked down at my dueling leathers and saw the blood stains on them, knowing the blood was his. That thought shook me, more than it should have. I didn't feel this kind of trauma when my fellow Jedi died back on the bridge of the Titan. Many I had known and studied with had died during the war against the Sith, the war that this man had started. Why did I continue to feel such concern for him! I suddenly realized I was running my hand lightly over his chest, tracing the wounds. No, it was more than that. I stopped and just looked at my hand, as if it had mind of its own.

At that moment, I suddenly felt a hand shoot up and grasp my wrist tightly. I gasped in surprise. I looked up and saw Re… Veran looking at me with half-open eyes. He smiled wanly at me. "Guess I can't argue over who saved who this time, huh, Bas?" He then laid his head back and promptly drifted off. From his breathing, I could tell it was sleep, not just a loss of consciousness. That was not the only shocking moment. He called me Bas. Only my father had called me that, when I was just a little girl… Could he have known, on some subconscious level? How deep did this bond go?

At that moment, I was both excited and afraid. I wanted this bond dissolved. Let someone else do this. This man was getting under my shields far too easily. He had affected me in ways I was not comfortable with. I desperately wished I was back on Dantooine, so that the Masters could relieve me of this burden. But deep down, there was also this tiny bit of…excitement. I realized, I wanted someone to know me, to understand me. I pushed those thoughts away as I stood up quickly and moved to the window. It was a gorgeous view of Upper City. Night had fallen, but the lights of the city made it impossible to make out the stars. It was if the entire planet were surrounded in darkness.

We must get off this world and quickly. The Sith are no longer the only danger to me here.

Veran slept for over a full planetary rotation. I kept a close eye on him, and his pulse was strong and his breathing regular. At some point in the night, I fell asleep beside his bed. I did not hear Carth, Mission, and Zaalbar return from their supply run. Given how long it took them to return, I could only assume they took what Carth would shrug off as the scenic route. No doubt giving me time to cool down. I came back to awareness with Mission shaking my shoulder gently.

"Bastila? Hey… sorry to wake you, but we got some supply from Zelka. He said if we needed, we could bring Veran by his place. Least he could do for the man who gave him the rakghoul cure." she said with a small smile.

I quickly snapped to attention. I glanced up at Veran who was now snoring quite noisily. Carth looked amused, and one can never mistake a Wookiee's chuckle for anything other than what it is. It was then I realized that I was fell asleep resting against his bed. I quickly stood up and straightened my clothes. "Rakghoul cure? What are you talking about?"

"Oh, it was great! We were taking out a rakghoul pack that had just finished off a Sith patrol. Veran noticed a special medkit on one of them, and when he checked it out, we actually found a sample of an experimental rakghoul serum! We brought it to Zelka to have it analyzed, and he confirmed that not only was it a viable cure, but it was something he could replicate in his facility! That little toad, Gurney, was a fit to be tied!" Mission giggled in a way that reminded me that this was a 14yo girl I was talking to, not just a street-raised thief.

"Who is this Gurney?" I was feeling very confused now. They had found a cure for some kind of local plague while searching for me? Exactly how much did I miss while being held by that bastard Brejik?

"Oh, Gurney was Zelka's lab assistant. He's a greedy little bastard who tried to talk Veran into selling the serum to Zax at the bounty office for Davik Kang. That little core-slime looked like he was about to die when Veran just walked in, handed it over to Zelka and then refused what little payment the Doc had to offer." She glanced over at the figure on the bed. "It felt really good to do that. Its not often you meet someone in the Lower City who'd go out of his way to help someone else. He even helped me get Zaalbar away from those Gamorrean slavers, didn't ask for nothing as a reward. Though I expect a Wookiee life debt was probably a bit more than he wanted."

I was surprised, and it must have shown on my face. There hadn't been much time to fill me in on what happened while they hunted for me, and I had to admit, I never really thought to ask. I just assumed nothing of consequence happened. Obviously I was wrong. Carth just smiled sympathetically at me. "I realize he's probably not your favorite person in the galaxy at the moment, Bastila, but you've got to give him credit. He may be inquisitive and aggravating, but even I can't fault his character."

A groggy voice from behind me said, "I assure you, any tales of my generosity and kindness are greatly exaggerated." He sat up slowly. "Very well, Mistress, I await your wrath. I'm sure the only reason you put me back together again was so I'd be in perfect health so you could kill me for my 'arrogant bravado." he said in a imitation of my voice and accent.

I just glared at him balefully, refusing to rise to his bait. "That won't be necessary, Veran. I'm sure you learned your lesson. I trust next time you will heed my advice before running off into danger." My voice was cold and controlled.

"Absolutely, mistress, as you command," he said with a sickly smirk. "Don't ever call me that." I snapped, and I instantly realized my mistake.

"Yes, princess. Or would you prefer Your Highness?" His grin was wide enough to swallow a planet and Carth was doing everything in his power not to laugh.

I should have let him die on that bridge.

We all returned to Javyar's cantina for our rendezvous with the Mandalorian mercenary, Canderous Ordo. The mercenary was at least as old as Carth, scars on his face and arms told the tale of a lifetime of battle. He surely participated in the Mandalorian Wars only a scant few years ago. I couldn't help but wonder how he would react if he knew he faced the man who had so soundly defeated them. Our deal was that we provided launch codes to clear the blockade, and he would provide the ship. Now that we had lived up to our end of the bargain, it became necessary to take Veran and present him to Davik Kang as a potential new recruit. Veran's reputation, both in swoop and dueling circles, would be the perfect resume to intrigue the local crimelord. However, I did not trust the Mandalorian as far as T3 could throw him, and insisted on coming along.

Carth again brought up the same problem as would have plagued us at the Sith military base. Davik would surely recognize me, if nothing else, than from the swoop race debacle. Canderous had a… solution of sorts. "Oh, it won't be a problem. She was the Vulkar's prize. Veran won. That makes her his slave, as far as anyone in the know on Taris is concerned. Just make sure Davik doesn't see that fancy glowrod of hers, and he won't bat an eye."

"You can't be serious! I refuse! To even pretend to be a slave to… to… HIM! Absolutely not!"

Canderous glared at her with impatience. "Look, sister. You want to tag along; you have to have a reason to be there. Veran has a reason. I have a reason. YOU need a reason. So either stuff the pride or borrow the kid's pazaak deck and practice a few hands. I don't have time for this. I'll get my speeder. Meet me at platform C14 in 10 minutes." With that, the turned and walked off.

"Bastila, look, I know this doesn't sit well with you, given what you went through with the Vulkar's but if you want to go along, he's right. It's the only way to get you in, without raising too many questions. Besides, we both know I have as much chance of making you do my bidding as Zaalbar has passing for a Jawa." Veran said with a sympathetic smile. "It'll just be for a little while. We get in, pander to Davik, wait for nightfall, then we take the ship and get off this planet. It'll go a lot easier with you along. I could use some help with this."

The look on his face made me soften just a touch. I could feel his sincerity through our bond. He was right. It was just an act, and he would need help dealing with Davik's security, and maybe even that Mandalorian, should it turn out to be a trap. "Very well, Veran. You are correct. We should go quickly." I handed him my lightstaff, which he quickly concealed in his pack.

"Mission, Zaalbar, T3, and I will wait back at home base. There's a landing pad on the roof. When you get the ship, signal us, and we'll be waiting. You won't even have to set her down. Just lower the boarding ramp and hover." Carth walked over and shook Veran's hand. "Good luck. Don't trust that merc for an instant. Watch out for each other." He took a step back and snapped a salute to both of us, and led the others off.

"Well, Bastila… no time like the present." Veran looked at me solemnly. He knew this was risky, but so far, it was our only option. I nodded agreement and we went to make our rendezvous.

Davik Kang was everything I had come to expect in those crime lords affiliated with the Exchange: slimy, conceited, and completely amoral. He was a human, in his early 60s, with white thinning hair, but from the rather impressive well-used set of custom battle armor he was wearing, he was obviously quite used to taking care of himself. I was quite shocked to find myself wishing I could kill him, and spare this world any further damage from him. I realized that it was Veran feeling this, not myself. After all, I knew killing this man now would change nothing. Someone would merely replace him. A Jedi would only kill him if he was a direct threat to others at that moment, in self-defense, or if the way had been paved to dismantle his entire organization.

I could feel Veran's utter contempt for the man echoing across the room to me, even though nothing showed on his face as Davik showed us around his operation. It was disconcerting to feel such strong emotion coming from him. Our bond was slowly growing in strength, though he gave no outward sign of it having any effect on him, other than some odd dreams. His talent was still there, but latent now. I considered myself fortunate that he could not read me the way I could him. It still shook me though. All my life, Master Vrook had taught me to have a strong reign on my emotions. While I was still considered headstrong by him, and the rest of the Order, I had long wrestled to keep my emotions under firm control. Now I was deeply, almost intimately, connected to a man whose emotions run freely.

What astonished me more was how easily he seemed to live with them. Mine had always confused and frustrated me. I longed for the easy self-control demonstrated by the Council. Yet, Veran seemed to take his in easy stride. The strength of them seemed overwhelming to me, but they seemed to just… flow through him, much as we are taught to let the Force do with us. I was confused. How did he do it? I had to admit, I feared for him. This is obviously what led him to the Dark Side, and to all the pain and death we had suffered over the last two years. I would not let myself be taken in by his mistake.

My thoughts returned to the present as Davik led us to our quarters. Matters seemed complicated suddenly, as Calo Nord came. The short yet bulky man strode in confidently. I could see that Canderous was giving Calo a look that should have roasted him alive. The two traded a few verbal shots at each other, before Davik told them both to stand down. I was very glad I had come along. The man may be diminutive in size, but not in skill. I had no doubt even the Mandalorian would find his hands full with the bounty hunter. I was quite right that I was needed, despite my role as "slave."

It was then that I heard Davik offering to house me in the slave quarters. It took all my training to keep for shooting a scathing look at Veran, who replied, "No, thank you, Davik. I'd rather keep her with me. She's quite talented, and I must admit, I'm unwilling to share her with others, as yet." He gave the crimelord a rakish smile as he ran a hand down the side of my face. Part of me wanted to bite his hand, but I knew that would not go over well with our hosts. I did my best to look slightly repulsed and scared at the same time, hoping Davik wouldn't question it. He didn't, fortunately. Actually, I think I could go for one of those lovely massages you were talking about. It's been a rough couple of weeks. I bit my tongue internally as Veran took off his armor and lay down on the bed. "Well!" he barked at me. I glanced, seeing Canderous smirk and Davik chuckle as he and Calo looked on.

The bastard was playing me! He KNEW I couldn't refuse… why that… I could feel his smug satisfaction, and it was all I could do no to throttle him right there. I calmed myself. I would not give into this, no matter how frustrating he was. There is no passion, there is serenity… I couldn't break role now, so I took up the oil and began to work on his back, as he sighed contentedly. Davik laughed and said, "I can see he's going to fit in well with organization. As soon as your background check comes up clean, we'll get you to work. Don't get too comfortable. I'd advise you not to leave the wing, but I see you're going to be occupied for awhile." With that, he and Calo left. As soon as the door shut, I grabbed the sensitive nerve where the neck joins to the collar, forcing Veran to clench his teeth.

"I'm sure that was very amusing to you on some juvenile level, but if you're quite through, 'master' I suggest we move along." I said sharply. I gave the nerve another sharp pinch to accentuate my point. Despite the discomfort, Veran could not help laughing, and Canderous joined him. "It takes a rare kind to taunt a Jedi like that. You must have Mandalorian blood in your veins. Come on, we need to find a way to deactivate the Ebon Hawk's security shields." Veran rolled off the bed and got dressed, then handed me back my lightstaff. Canderous hacked the door code, and we were finally on our way. He knew the layout of Davik's estate. The hangar was to the southwest. All we needed were those codes.

Canderous led us on a hunt for Davik's chief pilot, who would have the codes to bypass the security system in the hanger. We were quite fortuitous to find the Ebon Hawk's pilot trapped in Davik's torture chamber, apparently for skimming some spice off the top of his usual deliveries. He was only too happy to tell us how to deactivate the security field guarding Davik's smuggling ship in exchange for deactivating the pain booth he was trapped in. With the access code in hand, we went immediately to the hangar. The few guards in the halls were quickly and quietly dispatched by my lightsaber while Veran and Canderous kept an eye out. But as with all plans, ours hit a small snag.

As we reached the hangar, we could see a rain of laser fire coming down enveloping the city. It was a planetary bombardment. Such a tactic had only one purpose, to wipe all life from the intended target. But why? Taris was harmless as worlds go: too myopic and self-centered to ferment a real rebellion. Why commit genocide on an entire world? It was then I realized the truth. This is because of me. Malak doesn't want me to leave this world alive. I wasn't the only one who realized this. Veran muttered, "An entire world? They'd kill an entire world for just one person?" I could hear the shock in his voice, and disbelief reverberated down on bond, and the horror. I heard one thought clear as day. All of that… all of those people… and it didn't matter… I realized he was thinking of the Undercity Outcasts, the plague victims, and the debtors he had helped. All those he saved, were about to die anyway. A wave of despair washed over me, something so profound that it almost knocked me off my feet. To feel such disillusion at a tactic he himself would have embraced only a few months earlier…I suddenly wondered if there was truly anything left of the Dark Lord inside him. But now was not the time for such thoughts.

As we moved towards the Ebon Hawk, Davik Kang and Calo Nord moved in from the opposite side of the hanger. "What's this? A group of thieves in the night? You just going to leave me to die, Canderous, while you and your new friends slip away. Sorry! I don't think so! Calo! Kill them all, and lets get the hell out of here, before the damn Sith bring this entire planet down around our ears."

Both Calo and Davik drew their weapons and unleashed a hail of fire. I ignited my lightstaff, and threw it at the crimelord. I allowed the Force to guide my throw, and it arced through Davik Kang, bisecting him. As I called my blade back to my hand, Calo realized taking all three of us without preparation was virtually impossible. He drew a thermal detonator from his belt and armed it. "I may die here, but you're coming with me!" Right at that moment, a barrage of fire punched through the hanger near Calo, bringing the superstructure down around him.

Canderous moved swiftly and punched in the access code. The shield around the Ebon Hawk shimmered and vanished. "Move it, people!" Veran and I ran aboard, and we took the helm. It took a few moments for us to familiarize ourselves with the ship's controls, but we managed to clear the hangar mere seconds before a barrage of incoming fire ruptured the fuel tanks inside. We managed to avoid most of the incoming fire and made it to our apartment tower. Veran had sent the signal to evacuate as soon as we cleared Davik's estate. The real trick was lowering our shields long enough to get everyone on board, and hope the Sith did not get a direct hit while we were vulnerable.

The Force was with us and Canderous got everyone on board in under a minute. I moved back to help. Canderous and Zaalbar were struggling to find someone to move T3 up onto the ramp without actually landing the ship. Given his design, it was proving problematic. I closed my eyes and reached out with the Force. T3 lifted from Zaalbar's grasp and slowly moved up the ramp in midair. I could hear the little droid's bleeps of confusion, which ceased when I finally set him down at the base of the ramp. Canderous looked over at me and said "About time you did something useful, princess."

I was about to retort when Carth came up the ramp, and asked to take the helm. Without a word, Veran slipped out of the captain's seat, and let the more experienced soldier fly us clear of the planet. Our Sith pass code, deactivated the automated batteries in our flight path, but it immediately alerted fleet command that someone was escaping. Two wings of fighters were dispatched to take us out. Canderous and Veran took over the gun wells, and with some deft maneuvering on behalf of Carth, the 6 fighters were quickly dispatched. Carth asked for a location to jump to, and I informed him to set course for Dantooine. Veran, just returned from his gun well, seconded the idea and we leapt to hyperspace moments later.

I looked up at Veran, who had this distant look on his face. He saw me staring and said, "I guess I should go check on Mission. It can't be easy losing the world you grew up on…" I saw a look of pain flash across his face.

"She is strong. And so are you. Time will heal this wound, trust me."

He gaze turned into the most hateful expression I have ever seen on anyone. "This wound will heal after Malak is dead." he said in a low, cold tone, as he turned and walked back to the crew quarters. The chill of dread filled me. It seems there was something left of the Dark Lord after all. I was very on edge, almost… excited, and I'm not sure which unnerved me more.

I did not sleep well the rest of the journey.


	5. Chapter 4 Jedi Training & Bondage Basics

Heart's Eye View – Chapter 4

Jedi Training & Bondage Basics

_Disclaimer: George Lucas and Bioware own everything. I'm merely having some fun in their playground. Besides which, I'm just a poor, unemployed history major so suing me will get you nothing but the rights to my student loan payments. _

The journey to Dantooine was uneventful. As we glided through the misty morning clouds we passed flights of birds, and I couldn't help but feel at peace. It was like this every time I returned here. No matter how awful the rest of the galaxy became, this place was inviolate, as if the darkness that ran rampant across the galaxy could not touch this place of peace and light.

Cart set the ship down gently at the landing port for the Jedi Enclave. I had to keep from breathing a sigh of relief. With everything that had happened, I was eager to report to the Masters. They needed to know what was occurring with Veran. I left the ship before the ramp had fully lowered. I knew I was being impatient, but I couldn't help but feel justified in my hurriedness. I proceeded quickly to the council chamber.

Master Vandar was the first to speak. "Relieved, we are, to see you again, Bastila. When we heard about the Endar Spire, we feared the worst."

"Indeed. We had hope that you had escaped to the surface of Taris, but with the Sith blockade, we were unable to get any information about survivors." Master Zhar added.

As always, Master Vrook appeared displeased. "We entrusted you with a grave responsibility, Bastila. It seems it was presumptuous of us to send you out without a Master to accompany you." I strove to control the blush that threatened to creep into my face.

"Still, the fact that you overcame such incredible odds is a testament to your skill, young padawan", Master Vandar interjected. "Still, the loss of Revan… of what was left of Revan is a grievous blow. All our efforts to capture and preserve him were for naught, it would seem."

I wanted to respond, but my Master spoke again. "I warned the council that this was a dangerous and futile effort. He should have died at the hands of his apprentice. It is better this way."

I didn't want to speak out of place, but I felt I had no choice. "Masters… forgive my impertinence, but Revan is not dead."

I could suddenly feel all 4 sets of eyes on me. "Explain yourself, Bastila. How is it that Revan lives?"

I launched into the tale of my capture by Brejik (though I will confess to taking Carth's advice about the bit about my lightsaber), and my rescue by Revan. I told them of my visions, and how he had also been experiencing them. Master Vrook looked concerned, and it was Master Zhar who spoke next. "Bring him before us, Bastila. It is obvious we can no longer hope to keep him on the outside of this."

I returned to the Ebon Hawk to find Carth and Veran waiting by the ramp. Mission and Zaalbar went wandering off to explore, while Canderous decided to stay onboard and go over the ship's damage. Carth and Veran seemed to be involved in some sort of argument. Apparently it was another in a long line of arguments on trust.

It was something they had started while looking for me, and had only grown more heated after my rescue. I was surprised to see the two of them just laugh and shake hands. Whatever had passed between them was obviously settled. I felt a small pang of guilt. Carth had lost much when his world was bombed by Malak's fleet while Revan was Dark Lord. If he knew who he was really shaking hands with, he might well kill him instead.

"Veran, the Council would like to see you immediately."

"The Jedi Council? Him? What's going on, Bastila?" Carth's brow furled in surprise.

"I'm sorry, Carth, but this is Jedi business. I'm afraid I can't tell you. Trust the wisdom of the Council."

"Alright, Bastila, we'll do things your way. For now."

I led Veran to the Council Chamber with only a brief interruption by Belaya. The fool tried to scold Veran for not wearing the robes of the Order. I admired the way he handled her. I would not have been as polite, I fear. She of all people had no right to call me headstrong and impulsive. She might try looking in the mirror sometime.

With that distraction out of the way, the Council proceeded to interrogate Veran for his version of events. Unsurprisingly, ours matched almost flawlessly, though I couldn't help but notice how he casually mentioned how he rescued me, but this was not the place for petty arguments. The Masters would know the truth of the situation.

They explained that he and I were linked, though when he asked how, they passed it off as something the Force had decided. Not a lie, but not the truth either. It was then that it struck me at how adept the Council was at such deception. For a moment, I could not help but wonder what I may have been told that had such fine shading. I immediately chastised myself for such thoughts. The Council would never manipulate their own in such a way. Ve… Revan was a special case. They acknowledged his potential to wield the Force, and to my surprise, they began to debate whether or not to train him. My Master objected most strongly, and when he commented on the Dark Lord's return, Vandar seized the moment to make this a closed session, and sent Veran and me back to the Hawk while they deliberated.

We all ate together on the Ebon Hawk, and talked about what happened at Taris. Mission tried to seem upbeat, but it was obvious it was wearing hard on her. Canderous, of course, cared little. Despite the Council's wishes, I was glad Revan and Malak beat the Mandalorians back. Brutes, all of them. Veran spent most of the evening playing Pazaak with Mission and Carth, and winning, apparently. By the end of the evening, both swore then wouldn't play with him again, at least not for credits. Canderous and Zaalbar were arguing over how to realign the ion drive for a faster burn.

I couldn't help but feel like an outsider, in some ways. All of them had grown up in a relaxed environment, with friends and family. Padawans did not socialize in the same way as the outside world, and tonight it showed painfully. I felt jealous of the lives they had lead, and thought of my father for the first time in years. I immediately suppressed the images, and went back to the women's bunks to meditate on the Jedi Code. The Masters were right: emotional entanglements were dangerous. These were allies, not friends. It was likely I would never see any of them again after they left Dantooine.

I would like to say that sleep that night was a release from my concerns, but it wasn't. In my dreams, I was swept into a vision, of Revan, dressed as when he stood on the bridge of the Titan, and a younger Malak without the cybernetic jaw. Revan was pacing impatiently in front of some ruins I had seen once not too far from the Enclave. Malak was expressing fear of what would happen if they broke the seal on the tomb, and how they would never be allowed back into the Order if they proceeded. Without a word, Revan broke the seal, opened the doors, and walked in. Malak, as he had done all his life, followed faithfully behind his friend.

I awoke from the dream, startled and sweating. I knew Veran had seen the same thing. I could feel his presence in the vision. This wasn't like the last one we had shared. I had assumed we were reliving the same battle. This was a memory fragment of the original Revan! Could he actually be recovering his memories? I nearly ran to the Council Chamber in my undergarments. I got a hold of myself, dressed, and tried to walk there in a calm natural manner. Carth had awakened early and was working on one of the ventral landing thrusters. I nodded to him nonchalantly and proceeded to find Master Vandar in chambers.

"Most disturbing this is, Bastila. It seems our hope that we could learn Revan's secrets was not a vain one. Though your Master objects, we have decided to take Veran Shadowfyre as an apprentice. Opening his mind to the Force can only enhance his recovery, and he should be able to help us find a weakness in the Sith plans."

The other Masters had entered at this time. "It will be your responsibility to watch him carefully, Bastila. This is a risky plan, and should the Dark Lord return, you may be forced to kill him before he can betray us all a second time. Do you understand?" Of course, it was Vrook who had added this.

"Does this mean I am to remain with him?"

Zhar nodded. "Indeed, Padawan Bastila. In fact, I would like you to assist me with his training. He knows you and would obviously feel more at ease with you. Your bond should also allow you to better anticipate each other. Besides, it would do you some good to see how the early training should be handled."

I felt a small swell of pride at that comment. Only Knights and Masters were allowed to train apprentices. That meant my own trials could not be far off. If I succeeded with Veran and stopped the war, surely I would be given my knighthood. It was all I had dreamed of, since I was a child, first brought to the Enclave for training.

Moments later, Revan strode into the chamber, looking as shaken as I had felt earlier. He bowed to the council, and Master Vandar acknowledged him. "Bastila has told of us the vision the two of you shared. It is now obvious more than ever that the Force has chosen you to help stop Malak. After much deliberation, we have decided to offer you training in the ways of the Force"

Veran raised his eyebrows and blinked twice, then smiled sheepishly. "I don't know if I'm worthy of such an honor. Aren't I a little old for this?"

"It is rare but not unheard of, to take an apprentice at your age. Make no mistake. This will be a long and difficult road, and if you choose to take it, your life will no longer be your own." Zhar's head tails twitched as he spoke.

Lowering his head, Veran considered for several minutes before finally looking up. "I accept the offer. I don't' know if I am cut out to be a Jedi, but I will give it my best."

Vrook finally spoke, his eyes narrowing. "Be mindful of your feelings, apprentice. The path to the dark side is quick and seductive, and we have lost many of our own to its embrace If you are not vigilant, I am afraid you may find yourself traveling down an all-too-familiar path."

Veran stiffened, and a serious expression came over his face, a look I was not used to seeing on him. "I understand. I won't let you down." His eyes then glanced for a moment over at me. "Any of you."

Vandar nodded and smiled. "Good, good. Master Zhar will train you in the ways of the Force, and Bastila will be your training partner. The two of you share a special bond, usually reserved for Master and padawan. She is young, but in this area, she is more experienced than you. Feel free to share with her, and anyone else here, any concerns, problems, or fears that you may have during your training. Just as we draw from the Force, so can the Jedi draw from each other."

I was not so nervous as I thought I would be. Originally, I had hoped the Masters would relieve me of the burden of this passionate, impulsive man, but now I found myself warming to the thought of training with him. Revan may have been raised by the Order, but Veran Shadowfyre knew much of the galaxy outside the Enclave, and I wanted to know more about him, and what it was like living one's own life. I knew his memories were false, but they were real to him, and this would give me an excuse to experience another life, if only vicariously. I would never give up being a Jedi, but sometimes I could not help but wonder what I would have been like if Mother hadn't foisted me off on the Order at her earliest convenience. Yes, I was looking forward to this.

The weeks sped by. Carth and the others decided to stay on Dantooine. Carth had contacted the fleet, and Admiral Dodonna gave him his long-overdue shore leave. Apparently the Sith had ceased their aggressive advances for the time being, and Carth was not needed on the front lines any time soon. The Republic was regrouping and rebuilding as quickly as it could, as was the Council. It was obvious that a lot of hope was being placed on Veran, though no one spoke of it openly.

Veran mastered the basics with a speed that bordered on miraculous. He accomplished in just 4 weeks what took me 4 years as a child. The other padawans were whispering. Some claimed he was the vergence in the Force, prophesied long ago by the ancient Masters when the order was first founded. Master Vrook scoffed openly at these rumors, but Vandar and Zhar stayed silent on the matter. I would have ridiculed it as well if I had not seen him levitating 4chairs and himself and a datapad in the air on only his second week. Even Revan had not learned so quickly. Some amnesiacs keep combat skills and reflex actions. Could it be that his Jedi training has survived on some subconscious level?

I did not have the answers, and neither did Master Zhar. He did not let this deter him from training Veran as thoroughly as he could. I am not ashamed to admit it, but it wasn't long until he was besting me in our dueling sessions. My fear of what he might become grew, as did my respect for him. He was kind, but brash; funny, but arrogant. There was so much light in him, but I knew that light could cast a shadow darker than anything we had ever seen if it grew to blind him.

We spent a lot of time together. He could sense the Council's silent concern, and the rumors of the other padawans. He withdrew from everyone but Zhar, myself, and those who came with us from Taris. It was obvious that he felt more comfortable with that motley band of misfits than with the Order, and I could sympathize. My own headstrong nature kept me at odds with everyone around me. I knew my emotional control was not as good as it could be, and so I tried harder than anyone else to be the best Jedi I could be. Let them call me rash; I would be the council's perfect instrument.

Veran would often come to me to debate the Jedi Code. It amazed me how he would argue against what he called "impracticalities" in the Code. I was scandalized. Rashness was one thing, but the Code was absolute. I realized how dangerous he was all too well. Towards the end of his apprenticeship, the call chime went off, waking me. I slipped into a wrap and found him waiting.

"Veran, do you know what time it is?"

"Of course I do. That's the point. Come on." He gestured with his head and then started walking. Without really thinking, I followed him. "Where are you going?"

"Out. I've been in this enclave for almost a month. I want to see what the plains of Dantooine are like, and lie out beneath the stars. Since you're my appointed guardian, I figured I should let you know so you could tag along and keep me out of trouble." He bypassed the security on one of the maintenance tubes and proceeded inside.

"You cannot go out! Not until you've completed your apprenticeship! You know that! The Council said…"

"I know what the Council said, and I don't care. I'm a scout. I've lived my entire life moving from one place to another, seeing new and different things. As fun as training has been, I want to see Dantooine, and I'm going, with or without you. Now you can either go back to your quarters and pout, or you can come with me. Either way, feel free to report me in the morning."

"I do NOT pout! And you're quite right, I will inform the council of your delinquent behavior. As for letting you out, since I cannot stop you, I will have to accompany you. The kath hounds have been more violent of late. They may not be nocturnal, but no one should be out there alone. If you insist on this foolishness, I have no choice but to protect you."

"There now, that wasn't such a difficult decision, was it?" After a few minutes of crawling through maintenance shafts, Veran opened a panel that led to the outside of the Enclave. He helped me out of the tube, and then just looked up at the stars, smiling. "By the Force, I've missed this. Now where to…"

I sighed and shook my head. Perhaps I could keep him from doing anything too foolish. "Follow me, I have a favorite spot for stargazing."

"You? Stargaze? Forgive me for saying so, Bas, but you don't seem the type."

"That alone should prove to you that things are not always what they seem. I have loved looking at the stars ever since I was a little girl. Here we are." Not far from the Enclave was a small pond, surrounded by a field of wildflowers. The moons reflected off the still water of the pond and just for a moment, you could almost believe it was a mirror of glass, instead of water.

"I take it back, Bas. You really know how topic a spot." He laid himself down next to the pond and looked up. I sat cross-legged and leaned back looking up.

"My father used to take me out at night and help me name the stars." I said wistfully.

"There is something I've been wanting to ask you, Bas, but I've been reluctant to", he said after a prolonged period of silence.

"Feel free. And for the last time, please don't call me that."

"Sorry, Bastila. I know we're bonded. But what else does this mean besides sharing random visions of Revan and Malak? I've asked Zhar and Vandar and they've been very polite and very evasive. So now I'm asking you. What does this do to us?"

I closed my eyes for a moment and collected myself. I had known this would come. "The bond means we can share emotional experiences. Jedi have always been able to read others' feelings, but a bond of this nature means that such perceptions are easier, and span much greater distances than normal, even for a Jedi. They can also be rather… intense. As you grow more adept, its even possible that such a bond would become telepathic in nature, allowing a sharing of thoughts and mingling of minds."

He lay silent for a moment. "That sounds incredibly… intimate."

At first I thought he was making a rather poor attempt at a come-on, but then I heard the tenseness in his voice.

"Yes, it can be. It is not something to be relished as a rule. Such bonds are rare. If you don't mind my asking, it is quite obvious that bothered you. May I ask why?"

He rolled over onto his side, and stared into the pool, his fingers playing lightly in the water, ripples playing across its once smooth surface. "You know from that little pop quiz you pulled on me last week that I'm from Derallia. Well, when I went to the university to get my degrees in anthropology and stellar cartography, I met a woman. Her name was Ketalyn, and she was in the literature program. We met in our galactichistory class, and hit it off. One thing led to another, and we were… very close."

"You were intimate?"

"Yes. It was a whirlwind romance. I know you Jedi have no real knowledge of this, so this may be difficult for you to understand. We were in love, or so I thought. There was talk of marriage after we graduated. We talked of a partnership: I'd discover, she'd publish. Our futures looked perfect." He just stopped. I could feel grief echoing down our bond.

"She left you."

"Yes. She broke it off with me after about 6months, no real explanation. I later found out she had gone back to an ex-lover of hers."

"As I understand it, these things are rather common in such relationships" I said, not quite understanding where he was going with this.

"It wasn't just that she left me. This guy used her; emotionally abused her; he regarded her as little more than a trophy, an object that he deserved and no other. And she took it without complaint." He slammed his fist into the pond, and the moon in it exploded into waves. "What I don't understand is why she left me… for someone like that."

"I am the wrong person to ask. I have never been in such a relationship. The Code forbids it. I cannot begin to tell you why people would subject themselves to such an abusive pairing. All I can tell you is that you need to let it go. This anger obviously still eats at you. It could lead you to the Dark Side, if you let it."

He sighed and lay back down. "I know. I don't know why it stays with me. It was just… the happiest time of my life, and sometimes I can't help but remember her and wonder, "what if…"

He closed his eyes, and suddenly a cascade of images washed over me. Veran and a tall, statuesque brunette talking and laughing; then they were cuddling on a balcony overlooking a city skyline. I felt a softness and a tenderness, and at the same time I felt a fire unlike anything else I had ever known. I couldn't help but think _is this love?_ Another was the two of them entwined beneath silken sheets, and suddenly I was experiencing an act I had never known. I could feel the heat rising within me, and realized it was coming from him.

As I struggled to suppress the bond, another image floated into view, of Veran walking through the city and seeing the woman and another, smaller man cuddled together against a balcony as they once had been, and a burning rage welled up within me. I knew in that moment, that Veran wanted to kill them. No. He wanted to kill him in front of her and make her watch. He wanted her to suffer as profoundly as he had. The power of the hatred that swept over me in that instance didn't terrify me; it stunned me with its clarity and power. I had always thought of hatred as a weakness, but in that moment, I saw it for what it was, and realized now how Revan and Malak had become so powerful in the Dark Side. Hate was a dangerous and powerful emotion. And this was what that love had led to. The Masters were right to forbid such entanglements.

I also could not help but wonder where these memories and emotions came from. None of the Masters had such experiences; all were raised by the Order. I did eventually ask Master Vrook where the memories came from. His answer disturbed me almost as much as what happened that night: they didn't know. The technique used to restore his mind was powerful and ancient and an enigma. All they knew was that the memories Revan had were not his own.

Suddenly the connection broke, and Veran was looking up at me, blushing furiously. "Oh hell, Bas, I'm so sorry… I didn't…I mean. Damn." He reached out to me for a moment, but I pulled away. "It is alright. I shall mention to Master Zhar that we should add more emotional control training to your regimen tomorrow." I stood up, and gathered all the poise I could muster. "Come. Its late and we have to be up at dawn."

Without a word, Veran followed me back inside. I never did report the incident to the Council.

After that night, I kept a wall between Veran and myself. His dark side was overwhelming. This new persona may be different, but it was obvious the capacity of the Dark Lord still lay within him. I knew I would have to be ever-vigilant when it came to counseling him against the dangers of the Dark Side. Master Vrook shared my concern, and I knew him to be right. But there was still light there, and as a Jedi, it was my job to nurture that glow.

After a month, and the shortest apprenticeship in the history of the Jedi Order, Master Zhar decided to give Veran his first tests. The Jedi Code he passed with ease. He and I had spent many nights going over the Code and its many interpretations. The second test was of the construction of his lightsaber. To my surprise, Master Dorak declared him best suited to as a Jedi Sentinel, the same as myself. He assembled his lightsaber, and aligned his crystal flawlessly; another brick for the wall that was becoming his legendary feats as an apprentice.

Finally, Master Zhar sent him to investigate an ancient grove believed to be the source of the kath hound problem. Of course, I knew about the Cathar Jedi, Juhani, and her ill-fated duel with her master, Quatra. I was forbidden by the Council from assisting him with this, as were the rest of the Jedi in the Enclave. So, he set off with Carth and Canderous in tow. After they left, Vrook expressed his opinion that Juhani would not survive the encounter. Zhar snorted but didn't say anything. He had grown rather fond of Veran, and no longer sat on the fence as to the rightness of saving him: he firmly agreed with Vandar that Veran would be invaluable.

They were gone for most of the day. At first, we wondered what could have happened, but then we started getting reports. First, Master Twi'lek returned from his criminal investigation, and mentioned how our miracle apprentice deduced the double crime that had taken place earlier that morning. Later, one of the farmers came in, congratulating the Council on sending the young Jedi to finally deal with Mandalorians that had been raiding the outlying farm communities. Vandar and Zhar were pleasantly surprised, and even Master Vrook appeared pleased.

The real surprise came when Juhani came back into the complex as twilight set in. I was consulting with the Council on Veran's training when she entered, and prostrated herself before the assembled Masters.

"I know I am not worthy of forgiveness, Masters, but the one you sent to deal with me has given me hope that you might grant it. I killed my Master in anger, and gave myself to the dark side, but I see now that I was wrong. The one called Veran showed me my folly in following the Dark Side, in thinking myself strong in my anger and my hate. I know I give into my emotions too easily. I am willing to accept whatever punishment you deem necessary. All I ask is that you allow me the chance to redeem myself."

Master Vandar came down and bid her rise. "Juhani, such forgiveness is unnecessary. Quatra did not die. She baited you into attacking her, hoping to show you the danger of the Dark Side. I'm afraid she succeeded a bit better than even she anticipated. You had a moment of weakness, but it was only a moment. If you have learned something of yourself, and truly seek to change your passionate nature, then all was not lost. Welcome back, Juhani. You have been missed."

Slowly and trembling, Juhani stood back up and looked up at the other Masters. "I will not disappoint you again. I swear this." Zhar dismissed her, and told her to await their decision on her new Master.

After she left, Master Vrook actually smiled. "I may have been wrong about young Veran. He brought her back to the Light. There may be more of the Light left in him than I would have believed. I can only hope he doesn't lose sight of it in the dark days ahead."

A short time later, Veran and his hunting party returned. Canderous seemed rather put out once they were told the full story of Juhani's "fall." I think part of it was because he was rendered helpless by Juhani's stasis field. If it hadn't been for Veran, he would have died under her saber blade. Carth did not seem very happy either, as the two warriors were sent out of the Council Chamber.

"Veran Shadowfyre, it is the determination of this Council that you have passed the Apprentice Tests with high marks, and you have succeeded beyond all our expectations. It is my pleasure to welcome you fully into the Jedi Order, Padawan." Zhar shook Veran's hand and I did not need a bond with him to tell that he was happy.

"Thank you for returning Juhani to us, Padawan. You did a great thing." Master Vrook said. Veran managed to cover the look of surprise. It was probably the first nice thing Vrook had said to him the entire time he'd been here. I couldn't help but be envious. Vrook gave praise sparingly.

"Now we must deal with the matter of the vision you and Bastila shared. Go to the ruins outside the Enclave and determine what Revan and Malak may have found there. Now that your training is over, we are assigning Bastila to journey with you. It is obvious the Force has chosen the both of you for this." Master Vandar dismissed us.

As we turned to leave, Alhan Sandral, a wealthy homeowner on Dantooine stormed into the chamber, demanding to know why we had not investigated his son's disappearance, blaming his neighbors, the Matales. After Sandral stormed out, Vrook decided we should see if we could resolve the incident while we were at it. The whole affair was sordid and pointless. Small men and smaller minds bickering over imagined slights. I would not have wasted my time with such as these, but Veran decided to intervene.

In the end, we discovered that the Matale son died of a kath hound attack, which led the father Neurik to kidnap the Sandral boy. To make things just ridiculously melodramatic, the Sandral boy and Neurik's daughter fell in love, and Veran felt the need to help them elope. The feud hasn't ended, and the children have been disowned, but they are happy. I couldn't help but notice a certain satisfaction coming from Veran as well. I think in some small way, the whole thing helped soothe the wound left on his heart. It did not matter if I knew those memories to be false; they were real to him, and that's what mattered.

After that little side trip, Veran, Carth, and I made our way to the ruins. Unsealing the door was easy, since Revan had done it for us. Inside we found the body of Nemo, one of the most revered knights in the Enclave. He was an elderly Consular, and while he had never achieved the title of Master, he was often sought by the padawans when they had problems they didn't want to take to their own Masters. I came to him myself from time to time, to vent about Master Vrook. Now he lay dead, and I felt sad. Another person claimed by this war.

A strange droid stood in the center of the chamber. It kept trying to communicate with us in a variety of languages neither Veran nor I could understand at first.

"Wait, I think I actually understood that! It's a dialect of ancient Selkath. But why would a droid on Dantooine speak Selkath?" I couldn't understand, and it was obvious from the way he glanced down towards the floor that he didn't either.

The droid croaked out in the strange tongue, "I was left by the Builders to guard the Star Map, until the Builders return. I am programmed to speak the languages of the slaves. You are not slaves, but neither are you the Builders. You are like the two who came before."

Veran shot a glance over to me, "Revan and Malak?"

"It must be."

"What of this Infinite Empire you speak of? I am not familiar with such an entity." I was curious as to who had built these ruins.

"The Infinite Empire rules the galaxy."

Yet another confused look. "When did you last hear from these Builders?"

"The last communication with the Builders took place 9 revolutions of this system's outermost planet"

We all just stood there dumbfounded, and it was Carth who first recovered his tongue. "But… that would have been almost20,000 years ago! That's impossible!"

Veran withdrew back into himself and seemed to be pondering the implications of theserevelations. I corrected Carth. "Not necessarily. The Republic is only 15,000 years old. We thought only the Hutts had an empire that predated the founding of the Republic, but historical records are sketchy at best."

Veran came out of his reverie, and added, "No matter what, this could seriously re-write ancient history, but that isn't our concern right now. This thing mentioned something else. Guardian, what is this Star Map, and why do you guard it?"

The droid hissed and whirred for a moment. "The Star Map shows the length and breadth of the Infinite Empire. It is a record of all that the Builders achieved. Only with the Star Map may the Star Forge be located."

I shared another glance with Veran. This could be just what we need! He asked before I could. "What is the Star Forge?"

"The Star Forge is the culmination of the Infinite Empire. It is their most magnificent achievement."

I was growing impatient with this odd droid. "But what IS it?"

"The… The Star Forge is the culmination of the Infinite Empire. It is their most magnificent achievement."

"This droid obviously only contains a set of pre-programmed response. Further inquiry will doubtlessly prove futile."

Carth looked concerned. "It sounds like some kind of massive factory. Or maybe some kind of ultimate weapon."

"Either way, we need to find it. Assuming that Revan and Malak actually found it, it's no doubt the key to all Malak's plans. Droid, where is this Star Map?" It was always amazing to see Veran shift from the care-free scout into such a determined person. Carth, a veteran ship commander and a leader in his own right, just naturally fell into line when Veran took charge. It was obvious the ability to command respect was another of his abilities that did not rely on memory.

There was another linking pause as the ancient droid whirred and clicked. "The Star Map lies beyond the door behind me, but first you must prove your worthiness and break the seals in the two chambers to my flanks. Be warned, failure to prove worthiness results in death."

I couldn't help but ask. "Is that what happened to Nemo?"

"If you refer to the being lying on the floor, yes."

The air became thick with tension. Nemo was old but capable. Whatever lay beyond these doors was deadly. Veran moved to the right-hand door. Inside was a large chamber, and on the far side lay some kind of computer console. As we moved into the chamber, the door sealed behind us, and a droid similar to design to the Guardian emerged from an alcove.

It opened fire with some kind of carbonite ray, and it targeted me first. I was frozen, unable to engage my lightsaber, or to even move. Veran ignited his and leapt into melee range. Carth was out of my line of sight. Veran attacked the droid with his usual grace, but it possessed some kind of energy shield that his golden blade just glanced off of.

In a matter of moments, he had fallen back, pressed to the wall under the droids assault. He could not hold it off for much longer. I could feel his fear through our bond, but it was fear for me and what would happen to me should he fall, rather than for himself. It was frustrating beyond words! I had never been so helpless and it terrified me more than any Dark Jedi. I accepted death, but not like this! I wanted to be free, to fight, and to save him. Where was Carth?!

Just as the thought ran through my mind, a saw a small sphere fly through the air and land beneath the droids spidery legs. An ion flash went off, and the shield that protected it crumbled. Taking advantage of the opportunity, Veran lunged forward with the tip of his lightsaber and impaled the droid. Sparks flew from its chassis, and moments later it exploded as Veran pulled his blade free and jumped clear.

The freezing effect wore off at that moment, and I was free. Carth came walking over. "That was close! Good thing I decided to bring a couple of ion grenades along with me in case we bumped into any ancient booby traps. You two okay?"

Veran lowered his lightsaber, and laughed. "I am now. Though next time, don't cut it quite so close, will you? I may be a Jedi but I'm not so eager to become one with the Force just yet. Thanks."

"Forget it. I still owed you for taking out the Vulkar who was sneaking up behind me."

"Yeah, but I still owe you for getting me off the Spire in the first place."

"Gentlemen, I'm sure this game of 'Who Saved Whom is quite entertaining among old soldiers, but some of us would like to get back to the mission at hand."

For a moment, the two of them looked like two little boys who had been caught rifling through their parents bedroom, looking for birthday gifts. "Right. Sorry, Bas. Lets go check out that terminal."

I was getting exceedingly tired of that pet name. He had no right to call me that, but I realized scolding him would do no good, so I ignored it. The terminal was in another language, which was not surprising. After punching some buttons and allowing a datapad link, the terminal accessed our language files and reconfigured itself. It was some kind of basic planetology quiz. Veran just shot me an amused look and punched in the correct answers without even pausing. The terminal responded that the answers were correct and that the first seal was unlocked.

The second seal was identical to the first one, complete with homicidal droid. Fortunately, we entered prepared this time, and the droid was made quick work of. The quiz this time as simple as the first, and moments later, we were entering the main chamber.

Inside, a large inverse tripod opened to our presence, and a holographic galactic map was displayed. We all stood there, examining it in detail.

"Well, it's millennia out of date, alright, but a decent navicomputer should be able to compensate for stellar drift," Veran commented.

"Look at how some words are highlighted and referenced. If I read these descriptors right, the four present are Kashyyyk, Tatooine, Manaan, and Korriban, a Sith world," I informed them.

Carth was as enthralled by the Star Map as we were. "I don't see any sign of a Star Forge though. Not surprising, the map is incomplete. Look, there and there and there, whole chunks of the galaxy are missing."

"These four worlds were obviously important to these 'Builders.' Maybe we can find more information at one of them?"

"That would seem to be our only course of action, however thin that it is. Come, we should inform the Council immediately."

The journey back to the Enclave was uneventful and filled with silence. We were all contemplating what we had learned. So far, we only had more questions and precious few answers.

The Council had little more light to shed than we did. Though they had long known of the ruins, ancient Jedi Masters had sealed them for reasons unknown, and the Council did not want to disturb them without reason until now.

Master Vandar gave us our new assignment. "Veran we wish you to visit the four worlds mentioned on this Star Map and find this Star Forge before Malak can move again. Normally we would not send one with so little training go out without a Master, but we fear this would only draw the attention of the Sith. Instead, we appoint Bastila as your mentor for this mission.

"Also, Juhani has requested to accompany you, and we feel this would be a good thing for the both of you. Remember the lesson she represents. Even the best of us can fall prey to the Dark Side," Master Vrook warned.

"May I bring my companions from Taris with me? The Ebon Hawk would make the perfect vessel, and I could use all the help I can get.

Master Zhar nodded his approval. "You may, young padawan. I imagine they are growing tired of the Enclave, and would relish the chance to travel again. May the Force be with you both."

We left the council and found everyone assembled aboard the Hawk. Veran explained to them our mission. "You have all done us a great service, and I cannot ask this of any of you. No one has to come along. I'm sure the Council will offer anyone shelter here or passage of Dantooine to anyone who wants it."

Canderous stood up. "I will not stay on this boring farm world. You are obviously flying into the heart of the storm, Veran Shadowfyre, and there is no place I'd rather be. With you, I can find honor in battle against worthy opponents again."

Carth looked less than thrilled by that little speech, but he, too, was not staying behind. "I had a feeling this was coming, so I contacted Admiral Dodonna. She's reassigned me to assist the Jedi Council in this matter. Besides, the Hawk could use a real pilot," he smirked.

"Hey, you know me. I've always wanted to see the galaxy. And any chance to screw over Malak and his goose-steppers is okay by me. I owe them for Taris," Mission piped in.

Zaalbar reminded Veran of the life debt he swore to him for rescuing him, and that he was coming along whether he liked it or not.

Of course, T3-M4 was in. Veran was his master. Where Veran went, the little droid would follow.

Veran looked over the group and smiled. "Thank you, all of you. Okay then, lets do this. Carth, lay in a course for Kashyyyk. Looks like you get a homecoming after all, Zaalbar."

The Wookiee growled noncommittally. Mission had mentioned that he was exiled from his homeworld, and it was obvious he was not looking forward to returning. Asking him about it had only resulted in the Wookiee equivalent of "none of your business." We would find out soon enough, I had a feeling.

Carth and I went to the controls and laid in a course. The Force only knew what lay before us, but whatever came, we would succeed. We had to; there was no other choice.


	6. Chapter 5 All for the Wookies

Hearts Eye View – Chapter 5

All For the Wookies

_Disclaimer: George Lucas and Bioware own everything. I'm merely having some fun in their playground. Besides which, I'm just a poor, unemployed college graduate (woohoo!!!!) so suing me will get you nothing but the rights to my student loan payments._

_Author's Note: Astute readers will notice early on that what Veran is doing would be called "katas" here in our distant galaxy. I had no idea what the Jedi term for it would be, so I tried to describe as best I could. _

The journey through hyperspace was even more peaceful than our stay on Dantooine. In some ways it felt good to be away from the Council. I would never have admitted this to anyone, but the responsibility my Battle Meditation has placed upon my shoulders was sometimes a heavy burden to shoulder. I was never left a moment of peace anymore, except to meditate, and even then I could not shake the feeling of the masters always watching me.

In contrast, the trip to Kashyyyk was both chaotic and soothing. These people were far from the quiet, disciplined Jedi I was used to. Mission was always getting into things. At one point she was even badgering me to let her give me a new hair style! At first, I tried to keep myself separate from the others, but Veran would have none of that. I no longer found myself excluded from their company as he seemed to make a concerted effort to get me involved in their meals and debates. And by debates, I mean the heated and sometimes silly arguments he, Carth, and Canderous would get into on various topics from history to battle strategy to piloting. Often times I would try to mediate their worst disputes, only to be drawn in myself, a fact with seemed to give Veran no end of mirth.

Unlike myself, Juhani did not seem bothered by this. She seemed to enjoy talking with Mission about the young girl's life on Taris. I noticed she seemed rather uncomfortable around Canderous. Not surprising, considering her people's history with the Mandalorians. All in all, she seemed to just fit in so easily. I guess it was because she was not raised by the order like I was. She had lived her life among a crushing throng of humanity on Taris. Veran didn't know yet, and I felt I should not be the one to tell him. This was Juhani's secret to tell.

On the ship, I kept up my meditation, sometimes with Veran, and other times with Juhani. Unlike myself, for him, it came with great difficulty. I had heard that some Jedi require a "moving meditation" of repair work. Veran was different still; he meditated practicing saber technique. It wasn't the usual combat drills and reflex tunings that Jedi commonly practice, but a kind of… poetry in motion. He would move his lightsaber in slow fluid motions, eyes shut, just letting the Force pass through him.

The first time I witnessed him meditate in this fashion, back on Dantooine, it made me uneasy. I perceived at as focusing too much on the combative areas of a Jedi's life. But as I watched him, I realized there was no violence or malice anywhere in his form. The blade moved with a gentle grace that had none of the characteristics of any combat style I had seen while studying at the academy. I soon found myself mesmerized by his motion and fell into my own meditative state watching his body move as he and his lightsaber danced across the training room floor. Instinctively, our bond widened and we found ourselves in a shared meditative state.

For a few brief moments, our minds touched and I felt the serenity he had wrapped himself in, and I knew he was strangely content, and yet anticipating what was to come. I pulled back and put the wall I had built to shield the bond back in place. I decided since that night he talked me into sneaking out of the enclave that it was better to keep it dampened until I learned how to better control this link we shared. It was not unusual for a master and apprentice to share such an experience, but I was not expecting it to happen with him. Despite the Council's warnings, it seemed I was unwilling to acknowledge the bond on a conscious level, and as a result these little surprises kept happening. I realized then that this bond was going to be deeper and more long-term than I wanted, and the sooner I accepted and adjusted my routine to account for this, the more surprises lay in store for me.

Veran had tried to meditate in the standard fashion, but he found it difficult to remain in one place for so long. I chided him for his inability to focus and his response was that the whole reason he became a scout for the Republic Exploratory Corps was because he found peace in the journey, not just the destination. It was easier for him to focus his energies while doing something than it was while just sitting still. It was Master Zhar who suggested that he try some form of moving meditation, and Veran decided he'd combine it with saber exercises. In just a few days, he had worked out the routine I had witnessed that day. The master was pleased and even commented he might recommend it for other students who had difficulty mastering the sitting meditations.

In fact, Juhani had come to him, our third night out from Dantooine and asked him to show her how to meditate as he did. Of course, I was invited to join in, but I refused, stating I preferred more traditional methods. I did stop to watch once, as I passed through the ship, on my way elsewhere, I don't recall why. I watched as she stood next to him, and they moved in tandem, paralleling each other. I felt envious for a moment that she should so easily join with him in meditation. Watching them move in sync together, I felt something stir in me that I had not felt since I had lived with my parents: jealousy. I made a silent vow to not refuse the next invitation.

Veran spent the rest of his time with the others, and had started dragging me to what he called "sabacc time." Pazaak was the preferred card game for gamblers, but was only good for two players at any one time. Sabacc was a new game that was just coming into popularity. It allowed for more players and did not rely on collecting and building a side deck. "Jedi do not indulge in games of chance," I protested, but Veran, as always, had a counterpoint.

"Jedi must keep their mind sharp. Games of chance, sabacc in particular, teach us how to read our opponents and to calculate odds. They can also teach us when to engage in a bit of calculated deception and when to flee. Can you honestly tell me these aren't skills we should hone every bit as much our ability to use the Force?" I could see the impish gleam in his eye as he knew I could not easily refute such an argument. He held out his hand to invite me to sit. I ignored it, but sat at the table anyway.

Carth was smiling as he said, "C'mon, Bastila. I know you Jedi need to meditate and practice all the time, but it's good to spend some down time with your comrades too. Besides, we don't play for real credits, just rations. It's just our way of bonding. Why else would an organization that relies on military discipline permit it on-ship?"

"Yeah, Bastila! Besides, you can watch me take these old geezers for all their worth in ration packs. There hasn't been a card game invented that I didn't master."

"Bah, youth and skill is no match for age and treachery, girl. Just because the stakes aren't real, don't expect me to go easy on any of you. The tactics of the gaming table are little different from the tactics of the battlefield: bluff, deception, feint, luck. Only the details differ."

"Uh, thanks for that rousing speech, Canderous. But why don't you put your rations where your mouth is? Or are your glory days behind you?" Mission couldn't resist provoking the Mandalorian mercenary. It seemed to grow worse, the more time she spent around Veran, and vice versa. The two would often fire insults back and forth at each other as they went about their chores during the long hyperspace journey, and both were becoming too good at it.

Canderous swore a few choice oaths at the young girl. It seemed like a fight was near to breaking out, but Veran and Carth looked unconcerned and in fact seemed to be laughing at the whole exchange. I needn't have worried, for as soon as Canderous stood up, Zaalbar's shadow fell across him, and his growls said what would happen if Canderous laid a hand on the Twi'lek youth. For a moment, the Mandalorian and Wookie sized each other up, and then Canderous sat back down and told Carth to deal the cards.

I am loathing admitting this, but I learned to enjoy these sessions. While I lost much more often than I won, I began to feel somewhat at home with this eclectic group. Somehow, Veran was becoming the adhesive that kept everyone together. Carth and Canderous were both older and more experienced, but they deferred to his judgment, though I doubt either really realized they were doing it on any conscious level. Revan had always been said to have a gift for inspiration and leadership, and this obviously held true for his reincarnation. Our feisty Mission looked upon him as a replacement for the brother that she lost years ago.

Zaalbar kept to himself, but honored his life debt without hesitation. He had become even more withdrawn during the trip to his homeworld. When we finally touched down at the spaceport, he seemed positively furtive, for a Wookie, at least. Mission had mentioned that he had been exiled from his homeworld, but any attempt to inquire only elicited a bark of annoyance that told the questioner to be silent. Whatever demons haunted our large companion, we were about to deal with them, whether he liked it or not.

As we approached the arboreal planet, I had a dream of standing at the bottom of a great forest, with trees so large as to defy belief. I could hear the calls of strange avian creatures in the night air, and before me another inverted tripod like the one on Dantooine opened in front of me. I could not, of course, make out any important features of the map it displayed. I woke up with a start, and quickly moved to the main passenger area. There I found Veran coming from the opposite direction. "Did you see it too," he asked, as he tried to brush the sleep from his eyes.

"Yes. The Star Map was obviously deep inside the forest, on the surface of Kashyyyk, where not even the Wookies travel regularly. We may learn more after we land." I stood there for a moment, trying to collect my thoughts when I noticed Veran staring at me for a moment. It took an instant for me to realize that I was so caught up in the importance of the vision that I hadn't bothered to pull on a robe, and I was standing there only in my undergarments. Another heartbeat and I realized he had done the same thing. We both stood there in a moment of awkward silence.

While Veran's were more of a short-limbed bodysuit, I had always been fond of more elegant and flattering designs. It was one of the few frivolities I could indulge in as a Jedi, as personal effects were largely discouraged. We were allowed to choose our own clothing, within certain parameters, and none of the Jedi Council had even laid down stricture as to what undergarments were acceptable and which weren't. Perhaps it was a conceit to wear ones that showed more skin than they covered, intended for form over function, but something about them made me feel feminine, and surely the Force would allow me one small private indulgence, as no one else would ever know, since intimacy was forbidden.

I was the first to turn away. "Such looks are not becoming of a Jedi, Veran. Control your emotions." I chastised myself for appearing embarrassed. A Jedi should not be concerned by such petty things as modesty, so I stood straight and placed a hand on my hip, trying to show that the situation had no erotic overtones, hoping to defuse the situation.

He stammered for a moment, and then he seemed to collect himself. A crooked smile appeared on his face as he responded, "Forgive me for saying so, Bastila, but such a look is very becoming on you." He bowed once, turned and walked back to the stateroom. I stood there, looking indignant, watching him walk away for a moment, before I noticed Carth, with another look like he had during Veran's duel with Bendak Starkiller, and looking back from the pilot's chair. He had the decency to spin back around when I noticed him. Men… I stalked back to my bunk, dressed and joined Carth back on the bridge. He wisely said nothing.

How to discuss the events of Kashyyyk? I honestly am not sure, even now. I accompanied Veran on his search for the Star Map, this time with Mission and Zaalbar, and the events still seem a bit of a blur. Shortly after we touched down, we were approached by the head of the Czerka Corporation enclave. In short order, we learned that Czerka had a deal with the local chieftain to take Wookies as slaves. The chieftain turned out to be none other than Zaalbar's brother, Chuundar. It seems Zaalbar had uncovered his dealings with Czerka years before, and attacked him with claws, an unspeakable crime to his kind. He was branded a "madclaw" and cast out by his own father, who refused to believe his youngest son. Later, it seems Chuundar managed to get Freyr ousted as well as senile, and became leader of his tribe.

Our shared vision indicated that the Star Map was on the forest floor, and the only way down the kilometer high wroshyr trees was with Wookie permission. Upon trying to enter the village, Zaalbar was taken before Chuundar, and we of course followed. There, surrounded by Czerka Security, the treacherous Wookie confirmed everything we had gleaned in the Czerka settlement. In fact, the only way we could access to the area known as the Shadowlands was with his permission. He ordered us to kill an insane Wookie who had taken refuge on the planet's surface. Chuundar held Zaalbar as a hostage to ensure our good behavior. Veran agreed to his terms, and we set out for the surface.

After we left the village, I turned to Veran. "Surely we are not going to act as assassins for this Wookie. While we need to find the Star Map, we should not allow ourselves to be used like this."

"She's right! We can't just let that overgrown carpet do this! We gotta help Big Z, Veran!" It was all I could do to keep Mission from staring a fight in the middle of the chieftain's hut, and she had obviously had enough of holding her tongue.

"Don't worry, either of you. I have no intention of leaving Zaalbar in the hands of his sithspawn of a brother, nor will I do his dirty work. We'll find a way out of this. Trust me. Mission, go back to the Hawk and tell Carth we need him."

"Oh no, you don't! You're not leaving me on the ship while you guys go down there, not this time!"

Veran took the upset girl gently by the shoulder. "This isn't Taris, Mission. There are no doors to slice. Do you know the first thing about surviving in a forest environment? Honestly?"

"Well… maybe I don't, but I can handle myself!"

"I'm not saying you can't, but we need to stick with our specialties. We're about to head down to into an exceedingly nasty place, and we need the right people for the right job. We couldn't have gotten off Taris without you, but right now, I need someone who knows his way around a hostile outdoor environment. Tell you what, why don't you head back to the village and keep an eye on Chuundar. He may try something underhanded now that we're gone. You're the only one they'll let stay there. They only see a small alien girl. They don't know you the way we do."

"Frell! You're right! That scum-sucking core-slime may try to knife Big Z without someone to keep an eye on him. You send Carth or Canderous and they'll just toss 'em right back out." She looked up annoyed at him. "How can you be so obviously connin' me, and still make sense?"

"It's a gift," he said with a slight smirk. "Go on. We'll wait at the Y-junction of the Great Walkway."

I watched as Mission moved swiftly off down the walkway back to the landing pad. While we waited for Carth, I started talking with Veran about the dangers of the Dark Side. It was imperative, that he of all people be wary of slipping into darkness. I could not tell him the real reason for my concern; instead I portrayed it as a response to being trained for so brief a period. I tried to recall many of the lessons of my own master, Vrook, and tried to impart them with the same detached view, though I tried to be a bit more empathetic about it.

Veran seemed to take my sudden lecture all in stride. At first I suspect him of humoring me, but he seemed to genuinely pay attention. I wished I was merely being overwrought, but I had my orders as to what I should do, should the Dark Lord threaten to return, and I found myself hoping that I would never have to follow through on those orders. Like Carth and the others, I had begun to grow fond of this man. His new personality had all the charisma of his old. I knew who he was and what he used to be, and yet I still felt drawn to him. It wasn't just the bond. While it was far from gone, I had managed a level of control over my end of it. No, it was the way he seemed at ease anywhere, no matter how alien the setting. It was how he seemed to find something humorous in everything, even when it irritated me. There was just, inexplicably, something about him.

I heard the sound of someone approaching from the Czerka camp and we turned, expecting Carth. Instead, a yellow-skinned Twi'lek was approaching. I was about to resume my conversation with Veran when she spoke.

"Bastila?! Excuse me, miss, but are you Helena's daughter?"

I was shocked. I had not heard the name of my mother in many years, nor was I pleased to hear it now. "Yes, I am Bastila. How do you know my mother or me for that matter? I came off as a bit terser than I should have, but hearing that name set me immediately on edge.

"Oh forgive me, I am Silya and I worked with your parents on some of their expeditions. Your father kept showing off holos of you. You're much older now, of course, but I thought it was you. Has there been any word on your mother's condition?"

"Condition? What condition? What's wrong with her? Has anything happened to my father?" A note of concern began to creep into my voice.

"I'm sorry but I have not seen your parents for some time. When last I spoke to Helena, she was trying to contact you. I see she has had little luck."

The concern began to evaporate, and a note of suspicion took its place. "No, I'm afraid I haven't spoken to my parents since I left home. Where did you last hear from her?"

"The last transmission I had from her originated from Tatooine. She didn't give details, but she implied she was very ill. I can't tell you anything more."

"Thank you for this information. It was a pleasure meeting you." I turned my attention inward as I tried to puzzle out the possibilities of what I had just been told.

The woman bowed slightly once. "I'm just glad I found you in time. Helena seemed quite distressed, but please, don't let me keep you, master Jedi. You are obviously on business on some import to be out on this rim world." And with that, she hurried away.

Veran just stood there, his eyes downcast. "Well that was one of the most unusual encounters I've had since waking up on Taris. What are the odds that we'd not only meet a friend of your parents, but that your mother is waiting on one of the worlds on our list?"

"Her illness is probably nothing more than a small virus that she's milking as an excuse to get me to find her. While I have little desire to see her, I would like to learn of my father, and as you pointed out, it is not out of our way. If we could, I'd like to try and find her on Tatooine."

"Of course, it's not a problem. We'll simply head to Tatooine next as soon as we're done here. I'm sure everything is fine," he added, the concern on his face matching the tone of his voice.

I just nodded once, avoiding his gaze. It would not do for him to see me overly concerned for parents I had not seen in years. This was the reason why Jedi are taken as young children, to avoid these kinds of situations. How could I be an example to him if I could not keep my own emotions at arm's length?

"You're lucky, you know."

"What?" I turned to look at him, brushing a strand of hair back into place.

"I never knew my parents. They died when I was very young. The state on Derallia took care of me. I was raised in a private school, not too dissimilar from the enclave in some ways. It was a lonely life. I never really had many friends until I went to university. It's one of the reasons why I don't approve of their recruiting techniques. Yes, a child may be easier to mold into the perfect Jedi, but it's also why we're so alienated from the rest of the galaxy. We should be a part of those we protect, not separate and aloof. In many ways, I envy you. You got a few years with your parents and with friends. Its more than many of even your fellow Jedi had."

My face softened a tad. "Perhaps you're right. But it's that streak of emotion that has been one of those things that Master Vrook has tried to get me to overcome. I know that I am headstrong and rash. I try not to be, but it's difficult. He says I was right on the edge of acceptable age for training, and that the Order took a chance in taking me. It is my obligation to show them they were right to do so."

"Have you ever stopped to consider that the Council might be wrong? Yes, they are wise, but they are still mortal, and everyone makes mistakes."

"No, I haven't, and neither should you. The last Jedi to question the will of the Masters were Revan and Malak, and we have them to thank for this senseless slaughter that's been perpetrated against Taris, Telos, and a dozen other worlds!"

Revan shook his head. "I don't mean outright defiance of the council, and you won't get any arguments from me about Revan and Malak, but Carth made an excellent point when you two were arguing about the Council's inaction on the way here. Without them, we'd have lost the war. We have no way of knowing what would have been if Revan had listened to the Council; maybe better, maybe worse. I can't be certain. My point is that blind obedience is never the right answer. Sometimes, you have to shut up and do what you're told, but there are other times when you need to question what you're told. The Jedi and the military prefer it one way. Smugglers and pirates prefer it the other. What I'm saying is that there needs to be a balance between the two."

"Perhaps, but I am not so arrogant as to turn a blind eye to the centuries of wisdom accumulated by the Order. They can see a larger picture we cannot, and it would be wise of us to trust in that vision." That sense of dread I had come to know so well since I first this man was upon me again. These were some of the same arguments Revan made to the Council back on Coruscant. _Please, don't let him start down that path. I don't want to have to hurt him…_ I found myself pleading to the Force, flashes of the black-robed figure I confronted a year ago playing in my minds eye.

"Bastila? What's wrong?" I returned to reality in time to see him standing closer to me, looking concerned. I realized I had turned away and moved to the railing of the walkway, trying to gather my thoughts. Earlier, he had accused me of "scrunching up like a kath pup" when upset, which I vehemently denied, only to be proving him right again. As a Jedi, my control over my "tells" should have been better, and normally were. It wasn't just the bond, as I had hoped. I was losing control of my emotions, the longer I stayed with him. I needed to redouble my efforts. I tried to find a way to explain away my reaction when Carth walked up.

"Sorry I took so long, people. You won't believe this. On her way back to the Hawk, Mission bumped into Lena, her brother's old girlfriend. She claimed Grif left her on Taris, intentionally, and is now stuck on Tatooine. Needless to say, Mission is being rather vocal about going to Tatooine A.S.A.P." He then seemed to take stock of what he just walked in on, but instead of the baffled look he had worn on previous occasions, he seemed to be trying to suppress… a smile? It was if he was in on a joke that was meant only for him.

Revan pulled away from me and walked over to the fleet officer. "Tatooine, is it? Apparently that's where Bastila's mother is too. I'm not one to tout the usual clichés, but two long absent family members showing up on a world we happen to be going to anyway, it can't be a coincidence."

Carth ran his hand over the perpetual stubble he seemed to maintain. "That's funny. I didn't think the Force got involved in domestic disputes."

Veran lapsed back into that crooked smirk he seemed to love when he thought he was being humorous. "Never underestimate the power of the Force." I let out a sigh as I reached up to touch my temple. The trek into the Shadowlands was going to be trying for more reasons than just the native wildlife.

Despite having to put up with some rather painful attempts at levity, the trip proved more interesting than any of us had anticipated. Deep below the forest canopy, we found an outcast old man, fending off a herd of wild katarn with a lightsaber! He was a man of dark complexion, bald, with a short beard. He introduced himself to us as Jolee Bindo. I did not recognize the name, but it was obvious that he could feel the Force. He was a bit… cranky, I believe is the word, and he would tell us little about himself. He had us drive off some local poachers in return for acting as a guide into the dark heart of the Shadowlands. It seems he had found the Star Map while stranded on Kashyyyk and could lead us right there. The Force was with us.

With only a few hours journey, we found a large computer that seemed to control access to the Star Map. It utilized a holographic interface that utilized the form of an unknown alien race, with a cone-shaped head and two eye stalks that extended out on either side. Much to the surprise of everyone but me, it recognized Veran's brainwave patterns, even altered as they were, and put him through a test to confirm his identity. The questions were standard behavioral types, but the answers being sought were better suited to a Dark Lord of the Sith.

The first one he passed admirably, choosing to place his trust in friendship. The second one, which involved around a choice between making crushing an enemy and protecting a friendly city, did not go as well as I hoped. He seemed to agonize over the decision, and tried to divide his forces for both goals, but the computer would not permit such a response. His answer was to permit the destruction of the city to end the war more swiftly, resulting in fewer losses of life in the long-term. This was a standard tactic of Revan; during the Mandalorian War, he would often abandon Republic systems of little strategic value to reinforce his position elsewhere, leaving them to the tender mercies of the Mandalorians. Despite the death toll on those worlds, the Senate heaped medal after medal on the Knight-Errant for his "brilliant strategies."

The third question was similar to the second, except that it revolved around a peacetime scenario. This time Veran responded as a proper Jedi, which resulted in a failure on the part of the computer, which triggered a pair of droids to try and kills us. These were shielded in the same manner as the ones in the ruins on Dantooine, but were better equipped. It seemed that we might be overwhelmed this time, but Jolee had a knack for using the Force to disrupt droid systems, and with his assistance we vanquished them handily. The computer then reactivated and allowed Veran access to the Star Map, stating that analysis during the battle had shown him to be a valid user. Veran and Carth seemed confused, though I remained conspicuously silent. Strangely, Jolee didn't seem very surprised either. I made a mental note to talk to him when privacy permitted, about many things.

The Star Map activated, and we were able to fill in a few holes in the navigational data provided from the one on Dantooine, but it was still not enough: key sections were still missing. Nonetheless, we had proven that a culture much older than anything on record once walked the stars, and seemed to even be responsible for the wroshyr trees and perhaps even the terraforming of the entire planet and its biosphere.

Yet, one problem still remained. We had the Wookie situation to deal with. We agreed we could not play assassins, but we needed to get Zaalbar back without having to slaughter the entire Wookie village in the process. Jolee again guided us to our goal, which turned out to be Zaalbar's father, Freyr. He attacked us on sight, thinking us Czerka slavers, but Veran managed to best him without permanent injury. He told us the story of Chuundar's usurpation, and his regret at ignoring his youngest son's attempts to warn him. Veran persuaded him to return to his village and overthrow his son, but the Wookie elder claimed he would need the blade of an ancient weapon to make his case. I would never have admitted this to the others, but I was beginning to wonder why we seemed to be the only ones capable of performing some of these tasks. I know the Force has a destiny in mind for us all, but it seemed like an unusual number of items required retrieval and that those that wanted them seem to lay in wait for our arrival. I know it's a very petty stance for a Jedi, but as my tale continues, you'll soon see what I mean.

To make this story shorter, we retrieved the blade for Freyr who said he'd meet us in the village. He had to go his own road, to find what allies he might have left among the tribe. We made our way back to the lift back to the Great Walkway. As we approached the lift, we found Calo Nord and a group of bounty hunters laying in wait for us.

The diminutive little toad drew his blasters, grinning like a firaxan shark. "You've led me on quite a chase, but you're mine now. I owe you for Taris, and Malak is willing to pay any price to have you all alive, but not unharmed. I only regret that Canderous isn't here for this little reunion, but I'm sure I'll find him with your ship. Maybe I'll say hello to that little Twi'lek you're carting around. Tell me something, boy, is she as tight as she looks?"

Carth was the one who shot back first. "I knew you were scum, Nord, but trash-talking about a girl? I heard better snappy banter back when I was in diapers." Carth drew his two blasters, as Jolee and I pulled out own blades.

Veran just scowled as he drew his lightsaber. "Jedi aren't supposed to give into hate, but forgive if I say I'll feel a small surge of satisfaction when this is over, Calo." He did take a moment to glance back at me and wink. "I will feel bad about your henchman though." Insufferable male. I knew attempts at humor were a standard response by soldiers to keep morale, but Veran seemed to take a little too much joy in treating this like a cheap holovid.

"Heh, hope you still talk that way when I deliver you to Lord Malak. Take 'em down, boys!" Arrogance is always the failing of those who believe themselves the best. If he and his men had surprised us, he might have won, but by taking the time for this little display of machismo had given us all time to prepare. I knew we'd make short work of them, as my golden blade extended to life.

Carth laid down a swath of suppressive fire, driving Calo's Rodian companions diving for cover. Jolee unleashed a Force Whirlwind on one of the others. I was making ready to throw my lightstaff at Calo, much as I had Davik on Taris, when I felt Veran send me an image down our shared bond of us flanking the bounty hunter. I had been assuming that Veran had little knowledge of how to use our bond; something else I would have to re-evaluate.

Veran charged Calo with me right behind him. His blade deflected the barrage of blaster fire, until he did a back flip over the bounty hunter, landing behind him, in a dueling stance. Calo spun to face him, dropping his blasters for a pair of vibrodaggers. However, he neglected to remember me, and left his back exposed. I cut him down just as he realized his mistake, and was turning his head to put me back in his peripheral vision. Veran brought his single golden blade up in a salute and a wink, and then turned to help Jolee deal with his Rodians, as I moved to assist Carth. The battle itself took less time than the banter that preceded it.

Jolee looked over at me with a raised eyebrow. "Normally this is where'd I'd tell you to be on your guard, but if this is the caliber of bounty hunters in the galaxy these days, then I'd just be wasting my breath. It's not like you kids would listen to my warnings anyway. Pah. That's the problem with young people. You think you're invincible."

"And the problem with you old people is that you think you're always right." Veran always had to be quick with a retort, but to my surprise Jolee only laughed. "Good, kid. Never take anyone seriously. Not me, not her, and especially not yourself. Now go on, scoot. Don't you have some Wookies to liberate?"

"Ah, thanks for reminding me. I must be getting senile. You coming, old man, or would you rather stay down here and admire the flora for a few more decades?" Jolee only huffed grumpily, but the slight smile on his face as he clipped his lightsaber back on his belt showed he may not be as cantankerous as he liked to act. We climbed into the lift and slowly raised ourselves out of the Shadowlands

Upon returning to the Great Walkway, we learned that civil war had broken out among the local Wookies. Freyr was confronting his son over leadership of the clan. One of his supporters met us a short ways from the lift and escorted us to the chieftain's hut via a series of treacherous climbs across the wroshyr branches to avoid harassment from Chuundar's loyalists and Czerka security. We arrived in time to see Zaalbar and Freyr rise up against him. Mission was being restrained by one of the corporate lackeys. We immediately leapt to their aid, attacking the Czerka security that guarded Chuundar, while Veran cleaved the head off the guard holding Mission. Then, he shouted an order not to interfere with the central duel, but to concentrate on the other "unbalancing influence" as he called it.

We did as he directed, and within moments, Czerka and Wookie guards littered the floor. We stood in silent observance, as Chuundar dueled with Freyr and Zaalbar. None of us seemed worried, and for good reason. The re-united father and son soon dispatched their traitorous relation, though not before offering him several chances to surrender, all refused. In the end, Freyr reclaimed his position as chieftain, and welcomed his son home.

Zaalbar informed his father that it was important to honor his life debt to Veran, now more than ever. All he asked in return was for Bacca's Blade, the sword we had helped his father reclaim. It was the symbol of chieftains and it would mean Zaalbar would one day take his father's place. I knew little of Wookie culture, nor was I in much of a mood to learn. All this emphasis on family had me thinking about what, and who, was waiting for me on Tatooine.


	7. Chapter 6 Family Issues

Hearts Eye View – Chapter 6

Family Issues

_Disclaimer: George Lucas and Bioware own everything. I'm merely having some fun in their playground. Besides which, I'm just a poor, unemployed college graduate (woohoo!!!!) so suing me will get you nothing but the rights to my student loan payments._

I did manage to take Jolee aside during our trip to Tatooine. I cornered him in the medical bay, while the most of the others were still asleep. I quietly shut the hatch behind me as I entered. "Forgive me for asking, Jolee, but you did not seem at all surprised by the ancient computer's last-second verification of Veran. May I ask why?"

He turned around and looked at me, not with suspicion but amusement. "Why ask me what you already know? Better yet, why not ask a better question? How is it that such a fine, upstanding young Padawan like yourself is playing babysitter to a Dark Lord of the Sith; or how about an even better one? How come he doesn't _know_ he's a Dark Lord of the Sith?"

I had steeled myself for this. He was obviously a member of the Order, even if he had been absent for some time. He must have come from one of the other enclaves, perhaps even Coruscant itself. If that was true, then it was possible he knew Revan as a young man, before he started wearing the full body armor and mask, and recognized him now even now.

Reluctantly, I told him the tale of Revan's capture and his brain-damage, as well as how his new personality had seemingly manifested itself from nowhere. The aged Jedi just sat on the medical table and listened, head bowed as if contemplating my every word, and he did not look up again until I was finished. "That's quite a story, kid. I don't really know what to tell you, other than that I won't tell him either. It's not my place. If you want my opinion, though you probably don't, it's that it should be _yours_."

I turned away from him, looking downcast. "I am under strict orders from the Council. If he were to learn the truth, it might break him."

"Ahhh yes, the infinite wisdom of the Jedi Council hasn't gotten any less infinite since I was under their care. Have any of you stopped to think what would happen to him if he learns the truth from another source, hmm? I know few have seen Revan unmasked, and I'd be willing to be most of the holos of him have been erased from the Jedi Archive for 'security reasons' since his accident, but sooner or later, he will figure it out. Haven't you noticed that he's been more and more suspicious of how all these ancient computers and artifacts seem to want to respond only to him? Oh, don't so concerned yet. I don't think he's figured it out, but he knows something's up. I'd be willing to bet the only reason he hasn't pressed the issue is because of you."

"Because of me?" I turned to look at him quizzically.

"Ugh, you may be a gifted Jedi, girl, but I know Miraluka who see more clearly than you."

"Miraluka see everything thanks to their connection to the Force."

"I know that! Stop interrupting me and correcting my metaphors. Now what was I saying… oh yes, He's developing feelings for you girl, and his smart-ass irreverent demeanor aside, he takes you very seriously. I've known you both only a couple of days, and it's so obvious it might as well be written all over him. And over you as well, I'd wager."

I was incensed at his suggestion that I would allow myself to show my feelings about Veran, not that they existed. "Don't be preposterous! You know as well as I that the Council forbids such attachments!"

Jolee just shook his head and grunted. "Decrees and rules don't mean it can't happen. One day you'll see that your precious Council isn't infallible girl. Trust me; I'm living proof of that. He cares about you, and it's not just because of that bond you share, though it's certainly helping things out in that area. Been sharing more than just random flashes of memory, haven't you?"

"That is none of your concern, Jolee." I did not like where this conversation was going, and I needed to extract myself from it quickly. "I thank you for your candor on this matter. I shall deal with Veran as I see fit. I'll see you at dinner." With that, I spun on my heel, opened the hatch and went back to the women's dorm, just in time to see Mission waking up. It wasn't until later that I realized my hands were shaking.

The trip to the remote desert world of Tatooine went otherwise without incident. I've described in detail how the crew likes to spend their time, and I won't bore you by re-iterating the details again. The one difference was that I no longer had to be pulled into various social activities by Veran. I even tried to let him teach me his meditation techniques, though to be honest, I was distracted by thoughts of my mother and father. I was not looking forward to seeing her, and I knew the Council would frown on my contact with them, but something compelled me. It was as Veran said; it was as if the Force were pulling me there.

I am ashamed to say I paid little attention to events on Tatooine. Mission and I went with Veran into the port of Anchorhead; she seeking her brother, and I, my mother. The city, if it could honestly be called that, was a hovel. Why would my parents have come here? Given mother's tastes, I doubt she would have come here of her own volition. Perhaps father was here on another expedition! I hoped so. Of the two, I only wanted to see him.

We were stopped by an angry Duros cursing a human female in the cantina. From the epithets he bandied, I knew it had to be my mother, though I doubt she'd appreciate being called a "pit rancor". I wanted to go straight there, but Mission insisted on stopping by the Czerka Corporate Office first since it was on the way. It seemed the local populace was suffering from increased raids from one of the indigenous species, called Tuskens. During one of their raids, Griff was taken captive.

A hunting license was needed to exit the city, which the Czerka executive was only too happy to give us for taking care of the Tusken raider problem. As we exited the offices, we were confronted by another irate Duros. This one was an anthropologist who was insisting there had to be a peaceful way to end this dispute, but that Czerka was unwilling to explore the option. He pointed us in the direction of a local droid shop where a protocol droid who could speak Tusken was available. We agreed the droid would be worth the expense. Kashyyyk had shown us the business practices of Czerka Corp. and none of us had any love for them.

We finally reached the cantina and the confrontation I had been dreading. Just as the first Duros said, my mother was inside sitting at a table, her bearing as though she was holding court on Alderaan, not sitting in a dingy cantina in the Outer Rim. I muttered ever so lightly under my breath "There is no emotion, there is peace." As I was about to move forward I felt a small squeeze on my shoulder. I turned my head to see Veran looking at me reassuringly. He said nothing, but I could feel his encouragement. Steadying myself I stepped forward. She looked up, confused.

"Hello, I'm sorry, do I know you?"

"I'm here, mother, or don't you recognize?"

"Bastila? How could I do that when I haven't even had a picture of you in years? Do you know how long I've been trying to find you?" Of course. The first words out of her mouth had to be some kind of beratement. At least there were some constants in the galaxy.

"You knew as well as I did that communication would be impossible once I joined the Order. Now what is this about? Where is father?"

"Then you haven't heard. I should have known." A hollow note in her voice caused my pulse to quicken.

"Heard what? Are you going to tell me or not?" I could feel myself growing more and more impatient, but I already knew what she was going to say.

Mother glanced down at the table. "Your father is dead, Bastila. That is part of the reason I was looking for you."

"Dead… What happened? What did you do that got him killed?!" I snapped.

"Isn't this a lovely reunion? She's already hurling insults at me. You…" she said, inclining her head to Veran behind me. "You're one of her friends. Do you treat your mother this way?"

"My mother is long dead, actually." I could feel a hint of sorrow in his voice as he said it. I remembered how he told me he envied me my time with my family, back on Dantooine.

Mother actually looked sympathetic for a moment. "Is that so? Well I suppose I'll be joining her soon enough."

I had had enough of this. "I was told you were sick mother. Are you actually dying or is this just melodrama for my benefit?"

"Such sweet things you say," she said, exasperated. "I suppose I should tell you everything before we start arguing again."

"You could start by telling me what you got father into that killed him."

She stood up angrily. "I hadn't realized Jedi were so spiteful. You want me to tell you I brought your father here for an expedition, do you? You want to blame me for his death? You never understood. I was always to blame for everything. You father loved going out on his hunts, leaving you with me. Yes, I brought him here, to hunt for krayt dragon pearls. He took an expedition out into the desert, and he died."

My quickened heartbeat suddenly froze. I knew… I had prepared myself for this revelation, but it didn't matter. Maybe she was wrong. She had to be, but I knew she wasn't, even as I asked. "How can you be sure? Father was an experienced…"

She didn't give me the chance to finish. "Don't be daft, girl. I wouldn't have gone to all this trouble if I wasn't sure. They were attacked by a krayt dragon. One of the guides fled, and he saw your father killed."

"I see." I felt hollow inside. I hadn't seen my father in years, but to hear that was dead just tore at something inside me. This greedy, spiteful, selfish woman had finally gotten him lead him to his death. "So what is it you want from me, mother? Credits?"

"Don't be ridiculous. I want you to use those Jedi senses. I want you to find him. I want you to bring back your father's holocron."

I could no longer disguise my disgust for her. "Why? So you can sell it?"

Mother was growing incensed. It was good to see her break that icy demeanor of hers; always so proper and controlled. It was satisfying. "Is it too much to ask that I have something to remember your father by? No, of course it is. You couldn't be bothered!"

I just shook my head. I don't know why I came. This was foolish. "We are on a very important mission for the Jedi Council, mother. Ask my companions if you doubt me."

Veran moved forward, standing next to me. "What about your mother's illness?"

"It seems to have little bearing on what she's asking. Are you actually sick, mother?"

"What difference does it make to you? None, I'm sure. " She sat back down in her seat, looking back up at me defiantly. "Just find your father's holocron, and you'll never have to worry about me again either way."

I let out a long sigh and tried to reign my emotions in. "Exactly the kind of response I would expect. Very well. We shall look for the holocron if we have the time. I will make no promises, however."

"Fine. Your father was headed out towards the deep Dune Sea, just west of that Sand People enclave. Check along that route, dear. Please hurry." She then turned away to let us know that the conversation was over. Typical.

As we left the cantina, Veran pulled me aside. "Do you want to talk about it?"

I reluctantly looked up at him. "About my mother? I'm unsure. I find it difficult to remain objective where she's concerned. I find that… disturbing."

He looked sympathetically at me, the vaguest of smiles forming at the right side of his mouth. "She certainly seemed to get to you easily enough."

"I told you my mother and I never got along. That obviously has not changed. Now father is dead. That leaves a hurt inside you cannot imagine…" I glanced back up at him to see a look of pain flicker through his eyes. "Oh, Veran… I'm sorry. Of course… that was senseless of me."

"Don't worry about it. I barely remember my parents. I was only 3 when they died. I mourn their loss and how it affected my life, but I don't really mourn them, if that makes any sense. You, on the other hand, were very close to your father. Its only natural it would upset you." It was than that I noticed that my hand had somehow wound up in his. I don't remember him offering it or my taking it. It had just happened.

"Thank you. I… just don't want to talk about this right now. We should get going." I pulled away and began walking down the dusty road to the droid shop.

The droid shop was run by an Ithorian named Yuka Laka. He sold us the protocol droid, a blood red mechanoid designated HK-47. Protocol may have been one of its functions, but it was certainly not its primary one. It was sarcastic, caustic, and bloodthirsty. It also had a penchant for calling organic lifeforms "meatbags", a term that I found quite disturbing, as did Mission. Veran seemed amused by its antics though. He did a quick systems check to confirm that it would not harm its owner, and then removed its restraining bolt. The four of us then proceeded to leave the spaceport.

I spent the rest of our trek through the "city" thinking about my father and my mother and my life before the Order. My musings were interrupted at one point by Mission asking me if I ever used the Force to play pranks on people who annoyed me. I denied such behavior but the blasted girl kept bothering me. This was neither the time nor the place for such a discussion. Since she was so interested in pranks, I used the Force to pull her feet out from under her, landing her right on her butt. She accused me of doing it deliberately, which I denied. It was childish of me. What was it about my mother that turned me into a petulant child?

Once we left Anchorhead, I was able to sink back into myself. I paid little attention as he helped a hunter escape a deathtrap set by his estranged wife. In fact, I found the delay more than a little annoying. When I mentioned congratulating his wife, Veran shot me a look that was rather disparaging look. It wasn't very Jedi-like of me, but my own inner turmoil was projecting itself onto my every word, it seemed. I spent the rest of the journey in silence. We dispatched some marauding Tuskens with easy and used their uniforms to get close enough to their encampment to speak with their chieftain. For all his homicidal tendencies, HK-47 proved to be an asset in translation.

The Tusken Raiders were attacking because Czerka was intruding on sacred ground. Also, they appeared to have some kind of religious aversions to machines. I wasn't paying much attention as Veran and HK seemed to have the situation well in hand. All it took to appease them were a pair of moisture vaporators and they not only promised to reduce attacks, but they released their prisoners: a handful of Jawas and Mission's brother, Griff.

Mission confronted Griff on the spot about Lena's accusations of abandoning her on Taris, which Griff did confirm in a roundabout way. Such a reprehensible little creature. Once the truth was out, Mission proceeded to berate her brother in a fashion that only a teenage girl can. I felt sorry that Mission should have to share blood with someone so low. Her brother was as much a disappointment to her as my mother was to me. It seemed family problems really were very common. The Council was right; I was too attached to my father. A Jedi was supposed to have detachment. I tried to place myself above these feelings, but it was little help.

With the Sand People appeased, we were given a map of the western Dune Sea, where a cave containing ancient ruins had been found by their tribe. They warned us that a large krayt dragon had taken up residence with the cave, however. I knew it could not be a coincidence. This had to be the same dragon that killed my father. A thought bloomed in the darkest recess of my mind, one that I made sure I kept hidden even from the bond I shared with Veran: this beast would die, not for natural balance, or for protecting the settlers, or even to accomplish our mission; it would die because it took my father from me.

After what seemed like hours under the burning suns, we reached the dragon's lair. It was a cave of gigantic proportions, visible even from a great distance. There we found a Twi'lek hunter named Komad Fortuna. We arrived just in time to watch his companion enter the cave. Moments later, we heard his screams. Fortuna was there to slay the beast to help preserve the ecological balance on Tatooine, and to repeat the great hunt of his father before him. There was another pang in my heart as I heard this story; he was not the only there to slay this beast in honor of their father. I wanted to ask him if he knew my father, but I stopped myself. I didn't want to know. It would only make it hurt more. Blast it, I was supposed to be in control of my emotions, not the other way around.

Fortuna had lain down a minefield just outside the mouth of the cave. All he needed was someone to herd some banthas near to the cave to draw the beast out. I immediately volunteered our services, which drew a strange look from Mission. I refused to look at Veran, but I could feel his concern through our bond. Blast it; he knew what I was feeling! Why couldn't I have one private feeling to myself? Curse this bond, I wish I had never saved him from that bridge. I suppose I should feel lucky he could not read my thoughts as well. Why did he have to see my weaknesses?

The bantha herding provoked some nearby Tusken raiders, who considered the bantha a sacred animal. The fight was brief, and hardly worth mentioning. Once the banthas were close enough, the dragon emerged. I had no idea one could grow so large. I doubt father did either. If he wasn't prepared for such a beast… yes, my father was truly dead, and there would be no remains to recover. I doubt he was more than a bite to such a monster. My awe was soon replaced with satisfaction as the great lumbering beast strode into the middle of the minefield.

It took almost a dozen detonations, but the krayt dragon fell. Komad looked almost saddened by his victory. He babbled some hunter nonsense about denying the beast honor or a final battle or some drivel like that. I didn't care. The thing that murdered my father was dead. I thought I would have been happy, but all I felt was emptiness inside. I felt a hand on my arm. Veran just looked at me, nothing in his eyes that I could read. He said nothing. He just touched my upper arm for a moment, and then walked forward into the cave.

Inside was another Star Map, surrounded by the ruins of an ancient structure that the sands had subsumed eons ago. Shattered statues bore a resemblance to the strange alien we saw in the holo-interface for the computer on Kashyyyk. There was a lot of refuse as well. Apparently the dragon lined its cave with things taken from meals that it found indigestible. As Veran and Mission updated our map data, I began searching the piles, hoping against hope.

It was not in vain. After but a few moments of searching, I found a holocron. Activating it, an image of my father, carrying me on his shoulders, as we stood on a hill over-looking the ruins of Ossus, the ruined Jedi library world, appeared. My mother had insisted we go there, looking for lost artifacts of the Jedi Order we might be able to sell them. In fact, it was that expedition that had brought me to the attention of the Jedi. Master Vrook was the one who came to inspect the scrolls and tablets we recovered from one of the ruined libraries, and it was he noticed my potential to use the Force. My entire life changed that day.

I felt my eyes beginning to water, and I clamped down. No. I had already given in to anger, annoyance, and revenge since seeing my mother. I would not give into grief. No more. I would not have Veran or Mission or even that sociopathic droid see me cry. I was so intent on bringing myself under control; I did not feel Veran come up behind me.

"Are you going to give it to her?" he asked quietly.

I quickly shut off the holo-image. "Do you think I should?"

"You might want to consider it."

Yet another sigh escaped my lips. "That would just lead to another argument. How I always despised talking to her. I'll think about it about. I should try and remember my training. It shouldn't be this difficult. Can we not talk about this anymore? I need to think."

"What you need to is to sort through your feelings." He said calmly, and with that, he turned and strode out of the cave. Mission and HK-47 hurried after him. I just stood there, and pulled up that image, and looked at it one last time before following them.

Returning to Anchorhead, I knew I finally had to make a decision. I walked into the cantina with Veran. Mission went back to the ship without a word, for once. HK-47 was ordered to stand outside and guard the entrance. I hoped he wouldn't gun down any innocent patrons on their way in.

"I have the holocron, mother. I'm just not sure I want to give it to you."

She actually had the nerve to look surprised. "Would you deny me even that?"

I looked sternly at her. "I've never denied you anything, mother. You think I don't remember what it was like before I left, but I do. You were the one who always pushed father into his treasure hunts. I remember the arguments. You loved living in wealth. You were the one who wanted to give me to the Jedi Order, even though I didn't want to go. You took father away from me, and this holocron is all I have left of him."

That was when I saw something I didn't expect to see: a look of amazement. "Fool girl, you have a strange way of remembering things. That wasn't how it…"

I cut her off. I didn't want to hear any more of her lies. "No, I don't wish to argue anymore, mother. I think its time we parted ways, for both our sakes."

"Don't you think you should at least listen to her?" Veran had finally decided to interfere. I turned and looked at him, the hurt and anger I had pent up for all those years finally showing in my face as well as my voice.

"You don't know her. She is notoriously deceptive when she wants something. Why should _she_ have the holocron?" Even I was taken back a bit by the venom I heard in my own voice.

Mother finally got up from the table and moved around to look me in the eye. There was something in the way she walked, something I hadn't noticed earlier. She was in pain. "Is it too much to believe that I'm a dying woman who just wants to see her husband one last time?"

I heard Veran's voice from behind her, though I could no longer see him clearly. "One of you needs to give the other a chance." There was this soft tone in his voice, not pleading, but patient. I heard it in Master Vandar's voice many times, as well as Master Zhar's. It touched something in me at that moment, and I softened, just a touch.

"You're right. It shames me, I just… I find it difficult to… to let go of the past." Something inside me let go as I admitted it to both of them; a pressure on my chest finally lifted.

Mother closed the distance and laid both hands on my shoulders. "I know I was hard on you, Bastila. I was never a very good mother, I know that." Her voice was cracking. "Your father loved you so. He wanted you to be just like him. He wanted to take you with him on his hunts, but I said it was too dangerous."

"But you let him go on these dangerous excursions," I heard Veran comment. My head was bowed. I couldn't look at either of them. I didn't want them to see how wet my eyes were becoming. Mother let me go and turned to face him.

"I always tried to keep him from the dangerous ones, but he would nothing of it. It was a reckless life we led and it was no place for you."

I wiped my eyes clear while their attention was diverted. "That was why you gave me to the Order?"

"What do your father and I have for all those years? Nothing. That was no life for a child, especially someone as gifted as you," she said as she turned back to me. "Your father spent his last years trying to pay for my treatments. That was why we came to Tatooine; for krayt dragon pearls. I begged him not to…"

"Your treatments…" She wasn't being melodramatic. Perhaps I had always known but just didn't want to see it. It was so much easier to just see her as I remembered; to just hate her.

It was her turn to look down at the floor. "I'm dying, Bastila. It's been a long time coming, but there's nothing that can be done for it anymore. I told your father to let me go, but he wouldn't listen. He was stubborn. Like you." There was no chastisement in her tone this time, just a fondness, both for my father… and for me? This was too much… First, my father and now my mother, after all these years of silence and bitterness, was about to be taken from me as well.

I could barely speak. "I'm so sorry, mother. I don't know what to say."

She took my hand and pulled me into a hug. The move surprised me, and I didn't resist. She had never shown any sign of physical affection before; it was always my father. Maybe she was right. Maybe I am remembering things the way I wanted to. "Keep the holocron, Bastila. It would do me good to know you have it. This talking to you is what I really needed before I..."

I was not about to let her finish that sentence. Returning her embrace, I just let my eyes close and savored the moment. "I know. Thank you, mother. I'm glad we talked too."

She was the one to pull back first, wiping her eyes. It seems we were more alike than I ever would have thought. "Now, you said you had important business, and you were never one to mince words." She spun back around and gave Veran a stern look. "You there, you take good care of my daughter, you hear me?"

Veran cracked that lop-sided smile of his and said, "as if she'd let me."

"Well you make her let you. She's too much like her father in that respect."

"The rest she must get from you, "he said jovially.

"Where are you going to go, mother?"

She looked back to me, smiling. It was probably the happiest I had ever seen her. "It doesn't matter, dear. Don't you worry about me."

I took her hand, pulled out my cred-stick and gave it to her. "Take this. Its 5,000 credits. It should get you to Coruscant. Find one of the best hospitals. I'll meet you there when all this is over."

Her eyes widened. "Bastila, I already told you there's nothing…"

"I want you to take it, mother. I want to see you again… when we can talk." I squeezed her hand shut over the chip and looked at her imploringly.

"Alright, I will. Now you go do what you have to. Make your father and I proud." She patted my hand and then slowly made her way back to her seat.

"I'll try, mother. Farewell." And with that, Veran and I left the dimly lit cantina and returned to the sun-drenched streets. He said nothing to me, the entire way back to the Ebon Hawk. To be honest, I didn't want to go back there right then. I needed to be alone to think, and the ship was far too crowded. The only place for that was the desert, however, I did not want to do this in the place of my father's death.

As soon as we got back on board, Veran called everyone together. "Okay guys. I noticed a swoop race track right next to the local cantina, which is filled with more than a few gamblers. We've all been cooped up here long enough. Between these two places, we should all find something to do to occupy our time. Take a little time off. We leave in 6 hours. ALL of you, that means you too, Jolee." Carth, Canderous, and Mission were pleased. Jolee and Juhani were a bit taken back by the sudden suggestion, but a stern look from Veran told them not to question him. Much to my surprise, neither of them did.

As everyone moved to the landing ramp, he looked straight at me. "Everyone but you, Bastila. Someone needs to be on the ship, and since you've spent as much time off-ship as I have, you're nominated. Don't worry; I'll look after the kids." I was about to protest when I saw the sympathetic look in his eyes, contrasting that smirk, and I realized. He was clearing the ship for me. Once again, he knew what I needed, and offered it without protest. He arranged this entire "shore leave" scenario just to earn me a few hours privacy. He turned and followed the others off the ramp, but he turned and looked back at me as he walked away. He stopped and smiled. Not the lop-sided grin I was used to seeing, but a genuine smile. He held my gaze for a moment, and then he turned and caught back up with the others.

I watched him walk away before going into the ship to meditate on all that has happened to me. By the time they came back, I was through with my meditation and reflection. I was waiting at the base of the landing ramp for them as they started to file in. They all gave me an odd look, except for Jolee, when they walked by. It took me a moment to realize it was because I was smiling. I suppose I didn't smile enough. It was the weight of the mission, both watching Revan and searching for the Star Map.

But during my introspection, I had realized something: I was not the shepherd. He was going along just fine on his own. If anything, he was helping me. He was selfless and brave, if a bit foolhardy at times, and certainly headstrong. There was a sense of caring about him. He gave without any thought of reward. If he was bold, it was only because he wanted to do everything in his power to help. While I had seen moments of anger in him, they seemed to just pass through him like the wind through the trees since his all-too-brief training on Dantooine. He seemed so at ease with the passions I fought so hard to control. Despite appearances, it was not emotional impulsiveness that he followed, but his own instincts, and isn't that what a Jedi strives to do?

I could see now, that if it had not been for him, I would never have reconciled with my mother. He was a better Jedi than I; there was no shame in admitting it. It was the truth, and I admired him for it. Once, I would have been envious, but not anymore. Revan may have been an evil man, but this new person in front of me could not be the Dark Lord. He had all of Revan's potential, power, and charisma, but whatever demons drove him into darkness did not exist in Veran Shadowfyre. I did not know where Veran came from, but I was glad he existed. It made me wish Jedi were allowed to form attachments, but that could never be. The Council would forbid it, no matter how much I desired it. Besides, I had no idea if he felt the same. He was just as patient with Juhani and as kind with Mission. These thoughts were foolish and I pushed them away as he walked up, trailing after the rest.

"Well, you certainly seem in a good mood. Feel better?" He walked up and rested his elbow against one of the landing struts.

"Yes, it brought me peace, more than I would have thought possible. Thank you for urging me towards it." I'm not sure what possessed me in that moment, but I reached out and took his free hand, squeezing gently before letting it go again as quickly as I had taken it. "After all my training, I thought it would have been easier. I apparently still have much to learn."

"We only stop learning when we're dead, Bastila. Learning is a part of life. Come on. Two down, two to go," he said as he flashed me that grin of his. Without a word, I followed him back up the ramp. Yes, there would time enough to sort out all my personal feelings later. I took the co-pilot chair next to Carth as Veran laid in a course for our next stop: Manaan.


	8. Chapter 7 Moonlight Over Manaan

Hearts Eye View - Chapter 07

Moonlight over Manaan

_Disclaimer: George Lucas and Bioware own everything. I'm merely having some fun in their playground. Besides which, I'm just a poor, unemployed college graduate (woohoo!!!!) so suing me will get you nothing but the rights to my student loan payments._

The hyperspace journey to Manaan was only a few days in length, so I made it a point to spend more time with Veran and the others. I found myself becoming rather fond of Carth and Mission. Both had tragic lives, Carth especially, yet they managed to make it through each day with more optimism than one would think. Jolee had integrated himself seamlessly into the ship. He complained about preferring to be alone, but he always seemed to find to a way to be bothering someone else on the ship, though he spent most of his time talking to Juhani. It would seem he was trying to help her work with her anger problems.

Canderous was as irascible as ever, but he seemed oddly at home here. I could only assume he missed the clan lifestyle of the Mandalorians before they were scattered at the end of the war. Apparently this eclectic assortment of beings was filling a need within him, and I wondered if he was consciously aware of it. Strangely, while I found his normal attitude unbearable, I could empathize with him. In many ways this ship and her crew had become a surrogate family to me, even more than the Jedi Order.

Still, there was one task I needed to take care of. I found Veran at the helm, monitoring ship systems. He didn't turn around at first, so I took the co-pilot seat next to him. He looked over at me from the datapad he had been reading and set it down. "You look like you have something to say."

I nodded once and turned to face him directly. The only way I was going to get through this was to be blunt. "I do. I have been trying to come up with the best way to do this for some time. I suppose I should just come out and say it. I have come to depend on you, not just for the mission, but for my sake as well. I am… I am glad you are with us." I willed myself to maintain eye contact. I was not going to act like a schoolgirl with a crush.

His mouth began to form that smile of his. "What was that? I think I'm going deaf. Could you say that again?"

I chuckled lightly and brushed a lock of hair back behind my ear. "Now you are teasing me. You know very well what I said."

"I'm just still reeling from the shock of it," he joked as he leaned back into his seat. "Was that a compliment?"

I looked at him with mock indignation. "Well yes. Surely it's not so surprising."

"You just sounded so pained to say it," he said as his smirk grew larger.

"Did I? I am trying to be sincere here. It occurs to me that I may have been too hard on you, too demanding and too critical at times."

"Thank you, I appreciate the gesture."

I sat back myself, feeling a bit more at ease about things now. "I know my manner can be a bit… taciturn. I know you must be getting sick of my lectures about the Dark Side and… everything else. All my life, I was hounded by my instructors, always being told how gifted and important I was until I was sick of it. I remember when I was younger, swearing I would never be as self-absorbed or as stodgy as the Jedi Masters. It's ironic, really."

The smirk returned as he said, "don't forget edgy, critical, and overly secretive."

I gave him a glare I didn't really feel. "Yes, well there's no need to agree so wholeheartedly. Being controlled has kept everyone at arm's length; even those such as yourself who need my understanding and compassion. It's time to change all that. I wanted to tell you how much I admire and respect you. I had to tell you how much I care about you." I hadn't meant to add that last part, but it was so good to just relax and be myself. Blast it! I quickly added, "As a friend, of course." I ran through every control technique I could to keep from blushing.

He made no sign of noticing my slip. He just smiled warmly at me and said, "I'm glad you did."

Having narrowly missed the blaster shot on that, I stood up to go. "Well that was not nearly as hard as I had feared. Thank you. I feel… I feel much better. There's been enough soul-searching for one day. I believe we'll be arriving at Manaan within the hour."

Veran nodded once and turned back to the pilot console. Yes, I did feel much better.

Upon our arrival at the water world, Veran and I had yet another shared vision of the Star Map. This one appeared to be beneath the huge ocean that covered the surface of the world. This would undoubtedly make things difficult. It would seem that we would be spending a fair bit of time on Manaan, much longer than the two days apiece spent on Kashyyyk and Tatooine.

Veran made an announcement to the crew. "Okay, people. We've been living together on this tiny ship for almost a month. Over two months for those of you who were with us on Dantooine. Manaan is the first civilized world we've visited in a while, and Ahto City is definitely a lot nicer than Anchorhead. The Selkath's neutrality means we're safer here than just about anywhere else. With that in mind, we're getting rooms in one of the local hotels. Feel free to avail yourselves of anything in the city, within reason."

"And how are we going to pay for this decadence, Padawan? The Order did not give us a lot of spare credits to throw around." Juhani cut in, sternly. "We should not spend what little money we have so frivolously."

"The Order didn't, but Motta the Hutt's swoop track on Tatooine did; at least for their top-timed racer." With that, he pulled out a cred-stick which he claimed was valued at several thousand credits. That put Juhani's fears at ease. It would seem I missed some fun while I stayed behind on the Hawk sorting out all that happened between mother and me.

Carth looked a little reluctant. "Are you sure it's wise to leave the ship unattended?" He had grown rather fond of the Ebon Hawk. Of course, I also don't think he liked relaxing on any world where the Sith were so near, and who could blame him?

"Well if the Sith do try anything, they risk having their kolto exports decreased or stopped altogether. You're right though, Carth. We shouldn't leave the ship unguarded. HK-47 and T3-M4 will remain about the Hawk as security. You guys have a problem with that?"

"Response: Negative, Master. I find the presence of amphibian meatbags even more unpleasant that mammalian ones. Their language is an offense to my audio-receptors. Are you sure I cannot kill anything while here, Master?" The crimson droid disturbed me, but Veran merely chuckled at its bloodlust.

"Yes, I'm sure, HK. You do have permission to vaporize anyone who tries to force their way onboard. Do give them one warning, first though. Regardless, I promise, if there is any killing to be done on Manaan, I'll be sure to call you."

"Exclamation: Oh, thank you, Master! I've found our recent ventures to be disappointingly pacifistic. I can feel my actuators rusting with inactivity."

"Well we can't have that, now can we? Okay people, gather your gear. Consider this a working holiday." His mood was definitely jovial as we gathered our possessions. Maybe our talk had a positive effect on him as well.

Securing lodgings proved more difficult. One of the major hotels was shut down due to a murder of a Sith woman named Elassa. The accused was an old companion of Jolee's named Sunry. Jolee immediately went down to the Ahto City jail to see his friends and find out the details, and Juhani went with him. Mission and Zaalbar decided to go find one of the better restaurants on Manaan. It would seem our Wookie friend was craving real meat as opposed to the things that no sentient would call food that our synthesizer made.

Veran mentioned that there was a much more up-scale swoop track on the eastern side of Ahto City, and suggested that the rest of us accompany him. Carth and Canderous declined and said they were going to go hit the taverns together over on the western half, and dig up information on what was going on in the city. That was surprising considering the two seemed to have little love for the other, but it would seem that spending a couple of months fighting together had at least earned a grudging respect between the pair.

I suggested to Veran as the others left that we should at least check in with the Republic embassy and make some inquiries about underwater ruins. He said he would, but first he wanted to try out the swoop track. I shook my head in disbelief. Here we were on an important mission, and he wanted to race. He was right, though, in a way. We all needed to unwind, and the few hours the others had on Tatooine just did not suffice in that regard. A week ago, I would have lectured him on the importance of our mission. It was ironic that even though I was supposed to be guiding him, it seemed more and more that the reverse was true.

Veran stopped in the middle of one of the labyrinthine corridors. "Curious about something, Bas… Bastila?" He actually corrected himself from using that pet name. I was impressed. I had noticed his attempts of humor at my expense had decreased since Tatooine.

"Am I that transparent? I suppose I should not be surprised, considering our bond. There is something I would like to ask, if you'd permit it."

He folded his arms over his chest and tried his best to look serious, but it didn't quite succeed. "Go ahead."

"In our time together, I've been watching you. You are a true servant of the Light; you follow the tenets of the Jedi Order despite the temptations of the Dark Side, and with so little training." I couldn't help but let a hint of admiration slip into my voice. "For me, it has always been a constant battle. Don't you find it difficult at all? You make it seem so easy. Or is that only an illusion?"

He looked down at his feet and shuffled them about before answering. "It has difficult for me as well. Not in the decision-making but afterwards. As a scout, I'm used to making decisions, but only for myself. Now it seems I have to look out for 8 other beings, as well as help shoulder the weight of the galaxy. My slightest decision could have disastrous consequences for those I care about. I lie awake at night, wondering if there was a better way to do something. The council is right about one thing at least: I am too impulsive. Mostly, I think I've just been lucky."

A wan smile slowly spread across my face. "There is no luck, there is only the Force. You don't give yourself enough credit. I am glad to hear that though. Not that you have doubts, I mean, but that I'm not the only one. I've always struggled for control over my passions. I'm too quick to anger, too quick to act. My instructors have constantly berated me for it."

I leaned back against the opposite wall, mirroring his posture. "I have often dreamed of confronting Darth Malak and using all my power to destroy him and stop the evil of the Sith. I just think about all the evil that the Sith have caused and I… I … get so furious!" I let my hands clench. "Yet we are told such feelings are the path to the Dark Side."

Veran looked back up at me. "You would not be alone in that fantasy. It would seem we both have our demons to face, then."

I just sagged against the wall. I had never been able to talk about things like this with the masters on Dantooine. It was so good to just let these things out, to have a kindred spirit, as it were. "I suppose we do. Part of me thinks it would be worth anything to vanquish evil, even if it meant giving in to my baser emotions. The very thought that I could become as evil as Malak; I just can't fathom it. How could I…" Suddenly, I realized what I was saying and who I was saying it to. I almost kicked myself for being so foolish, shaking my head; I knew I had to stop this immediately. "I'm sorry; I shouldn't be asking you this. The Jedi teachings are clear; who am I to question to them? Even worse, who am I to try and make you question them?"

Veran looked at me, his confusion obvious in his eyes. He had long argued that questioning was a good thing. He should have been the perfect person to discuss this with. But I couldn't, not with him. I couldn't take even the slightest chance I might inadvertently lead him down that "all too familiar path" as Master Vrook called it.

"These are dangerous thoughts, the indulgence of a vain mind. Please, forget I ever mentioned this. Let's just have the evening out you wanted."

Thankfully, Veran let the subject drop for the time being. Before we could reach the swoop track, his com-link buzzed. It was Jolee. "I could use your help, both of you. Something odd is going on with this murder case. Sunry needs an arbiter, and I don't think I'm the best choice in this case. Come on down to the jail and see for yourself."

The case of Sunry in the murder of Elassa was quite complicated. It would sidetrack this entire entry to delve into the full details of it, so I will try and surmise as best I can. Sunry was an old, handicapped war veteran who was having an affair with a Sith woman named Elassa. Why he thought a young Sith woman would be interested in him for anything other than information is quite beyond me. Men seem to have little ability to think once their hormones become involved.

The woman was found dead in her hotel room, and Sunry was seen leaving the scene. A war medal was found clutched in the dead woman's hand. Sunry claimed he met with her at the hotel to end the affair, realizing he was being used. According to his story, the Sith killed her for losing a source, and were framing him to discredit the Republic. It would certainly have been in character for them.

Our initial investigation uncovered that one of the witnesses had been bribed to plant Sunry's medallion after Sunry fled the scene. Another witness confessed to having seen Elassa carry a lightsaber, marking her as a Dark Jedi, if not a full Sith. It seemed unlikely such an old man could have killed her. I felt Jolee would have his friend acquitted in no time.

Things became more interesting as we left the scene of the crime. A strange man approached us, hinting that the whole case was merely a microcosm of the struggle between the Republic and Sith, and that we should not take anything at face value. Normally, I would have dismissed such cryptic advice from a total stranger, but a stirring in the Force told me, as well as Jolee and Veran, that something more was going on here.

We then proceeded to the far side of Ahto City and introduced ourselves to the Republic representative. Roland Wann wanted us to infiltrate the Sith base and retrieve the data logs from an underwater probe droid they had captured. In return, he would help us locate the Star Map. We had little choice in the matter. Veran decided to try and slice a passcard using a partially decrypted Sith security code. For this, Wann gave him access to the embassy computers. After Veran was done, he surrepticously sliced deeper into the network, looking for any information on the Sunry case. There he found a secure-cam recording, showing Sunry shooting Elassa while she was asleep in their bed.

When confronted with this information, Sunry confessed, to us anyway, to committing the crime in an act of rage, upon learning he was only being used for information. He then went to Republic Intelligence to cover things up, because he knew the Sith would use the crime to have severe kolto sanctions placed on the Republic, which would be disastrous. He argued this was the very reason he could not come forward and admit his guilt.

It was a tenuous position, and Veran was obviously torn by what to do. He turned to Jolee and I for help. The aging Jedi seemed depressed to learn that his friend had murdered someone in cold blood. Even I was hard-pressed to give a quick answer. Sunry should be exposed, as we Jedi were obligated to uphold justice. We were also the defenders of the Republic, and this incident could cost us the war.

In the end, Veran chose to defend Sunry. I could not help but notice that at no point did he ever call Sunry innocent, nor did he lie about any evidence. He merely exposed the Sith attempt to undo R.I.'s clean-up job. Sunry was found not guilty and released with a 3-2 vote between the judges. Veran did not seem pleased by the result, and as we left the trial chamber, he was brooding heavily. Jolee was also inconsolable, and traveling with the two of them was a rather somber affair for the time for the rest of the day.

We went back to the hotel, and met up with the others. Veran unveiled what he had learned so far, about the Sith activities, as well as the Sunry case. Carth and Canderous had tales of both sides hiring an insanely large number of mercenaries. They were also approached by a Selkath named Shaelas, about the disappearance of Selkath youths. Shaelas suspected the Sith and wanted their embassy investigated. Once again, everything seemed to be falling into place.

The only decision left concerned who was to enter the Embassy. Veran insisted he and HK-47 should go, after all, he had promised. I was not about to be left out this time, pointing out what happened the last time they went into a Sith base without me. Carth again spoke out that I was the one with the bounty on my head. "Perhaps, but as you pointed out, they have probably already seen me. They can do nothing overt while we are within the Selkath's jurisdiction. I am going, and that is the end."

Carth backed down, and Veran nodded once to signal the discussion closed. We called HK-47 to meet us in the Eastern Courtyard, and from there, we proceeded to the Embassy. The guard at the entrance barely paid attention to us. He looked up long enough to check our ID cards, but Veran's slice job held up to scrutiny and we in. One turbolift ride later, and we were into the military section. There the Force seemed to turn against us, as the female officer manning that checkpoint was much more attentive. She recognized me immediately, and called down the upper levels guards.

The entire complex was on alert, and we fought a running battle the entire way. HK-47 handled the other droids, while Veran and I cut down the troops as we encountered them. There was also a high number of Force-trained Sith in the base as well. After retrieving the data for Roland Wann, we proceeded into a highly restricted area of the embassy, where we located Selkath youth being trained in the Sith ways.

Shaelas' daughter Shasa was their spokesman, and she did not believe us when we tried to explain how the Sith were deceiving them. Veran managed to persuade them to give us a chance to prove ourselves before calling down the rest of the guards. We confronted their Sith master as well as a handful of Selkath apprentices who weren't so open-minded. Between Veran and myself, we made swift work of the Sith master. Unfortunately his apprentices would not surrender and HK-47 dispensed with them, much to his pleasure, no doubt.

Among the master's effects, we found a datapad outlining their plans for the Selkath youths; it was basically a long-term plan to corrupt the next generation of Selkath leaders and instigate what would appear to be an internal political coup on the planet. When presented with this data, Shasa persuaded her fellows to leave with her and report to the authorities all that had transpired here.

It was fortunate for us that they were willing to do so. The Ahto City authorities detected the energy discharges from our raid in the embassy and we were arrested as we were leaving the complex. The datapad, combined with the testimony from Shaelas and his daughter, secured our release, and resulted in the closing of Sith Embassy while they decided what measures would be most appropriate for this affront to their sovereignty.

We took the droid data back to Roland Wann, who explained why the Republic had been hiring mercenaries. Apparently, they had been constructing a kolto harvesting station down near the Hrakert Rift with position from elements within the Selkath government. This was a secret pact, which would have essentially negated Manaan's claims of neutrality. They lost contact with the station a week ago, and the mercenaries they were hiring were sent down to investigate. None had returned.

Wann was willing to provide us with a craft to explore the ocean's surface, provided we were willing to investigate the station for them. It seemed we were again expected to clean up after a Republic operation fell apart. I couldn't help but wonder if we Jedi did not spend more time saving the Republic from itself than we did from enemies. When I asked how this would help us find our Star Map, he replied that some odd ruins had been uncovered near the station when construction began on the harvester unit.

The station itself was like something out of a bad holo-vid. Something had driven the Selkath researchers mad, as well as the firaxan sharks out in the water. They turned on their human compatriots and the place was a charnel house. A deranged scientist who locked himself in a locker told us all this. Once again, the Star Map was near the cause of some kind of evil event or monstrous mutation. I knew there were no coincidences, but there were rare occasions when I thought the Force was stretching probability a little too far.

The only route to that area was to walk through the firaxan infested waters. After a thorough search of the facility, we managed to locate some kind of sonic device that was intended to kill them, but there was only one working pressure suit. I knew the Star Map would likely only respond to Veran, so he had to be the one to go, though HK-47 protested vehemently that he should be allowed to accompany him, but an order from Veran silenced him.

He was gone for over an hour. I paced nervously while HK-47 watched on. I knew it was silly, but I couldn't help myself. My reverie was interrupted by my unwanted companion. "Query: Why do you pace so relentlessly? Either the master will return or he will not. Repetitious walking will not change the result." I just ignored him, and he asked nothing else. Of all the company in the galaxy, why did I have to be stuck with an assassin droid?

I didn't answer the droid, because I was still uncomfortable with the answer myself, even though I had begun to realize it back on Tatooine. I was frightened he would not come back, because I cared for him in a way that went beyond friendship, and that overrode logic and training. Jolee was right; all the decrees in the world couldn't change what I felt. But what could I do?

About 40 minutes after Veran left me, we could feel the rumble of an explosion outside in the seabed. I feared the worst, but willed myself back under control as best I could. Our bond was still intact. If he died, I would know it. I was being irrational. This time, my attempts to center myself succeeded and I brought my heart rate back down.

Obviously, he did return, safe and well shortly thereafter. He explained that he triggered the explosion to destroy the harvester machinery. Apparently the Republic scientists had awoken a giant firaxan, possibly prehistoric in nature. According to a few stranded scientists he found, the beast's awakening coincided with the outbreak of madness in the station and the surrounding waters. It was attacking the machinery, and he calculated removing the giant construct would quiet it down. He gamble was correct, and with his victory, he gained access to the Star Map which lay in a small submerged stone circle, near the edge of the Rift.

I was eager to look the data over, but he said that two sectors on it were still damaged, and that nothing important had been gleaned from this one. The one on Korriban was our last hope to find a location for the Star Forge. We tried to return to the sub when we were ambushed by a pair of Sith assassins, this time led by the Dark Lord's own apprentice, Darth Bandon.

Bandon was a former Jedi who followed Revan and Malak to war against the Mandalorians. To his credit, Bandon did not preen and posture the way Calo had. He and his two assistants attacked us as soon as we opened the doors to the sub bay. With a twist of the Force, Bandon disabled HK-47 and moved in to attack me. The other two flanked Veran, who pulled out his spare lightsaber and slid into a defensive style I had not seen him use since Bendak Starkiller.

I could not afford to pay too much attention to his battle prowess at the moment. The pale figure sported a goatee similar to Jolee's, was tall in height, and wore a set of black armor, lined with a cortosis weave to make it lightsaber resistant from the way a glancing blow to his chest just slid off it. Malak took him as his chief apprentice after he betrayed Revan, and took the title of "master" for himself. I could not let my attention waver from him for one second. I had little doubt Veran could handle two Dark Jedi by himself.

"At last, my search is over! I was beginning to think someone else had killed you and deprived me of the pleasure!" It seemed Bandon could not resist gloating during a battle however. We both used double-bladed lightsabers, and as we danced around each other, my golden blade clashing with his crimson one. "You will not dispatch me as easily as you did that fool bounty hunter. I have studied at the feet of the Dark Lord himself!"

"You're Malak's apprentice? I can't say I'm impressed." I let just enough of a sneer into my tone, as I knocked aside an underhanded slash with an almost apathetic parry. It seems my "Jedi princess" persona, as Canderous called it, did have its uses after all. I knew such an arrogant man would lose his temper and attempt to salve his wounded pride.

I did not have to wait to be proven correct. His face twisted into snarl. "Your words mean nothing to me, unless you wish to beg for your life! No? Then I shall make this slow and painful!" With that, he executed a series of rapid strikes, twisting and spinning his blade, trying to score on my appendages, crippling me.

I appeared to fall back against his onslaught, letting him think he was winning. He took the bait, and brought his blade up into a showy overhead spin, intending to suddenly shift into a downward slash, finishing me. I did not give him the opportunity; as he twirled his blade, I dropped to one knee, and with one smooth slice, I cut his legs out from under him. Bandon fell crashing to the floor, screaming. I took no small amount of pleasure from standing up, executing my own overheard twirl and stabbing my saber blade down into his chest, ending his suffering. The galaxy would not miss such a man.

I heard applause behind me, and turned to find Veran standing there, his lightsabers on his belt. As I knew, the two Sith apprentices lay dead on the floor. "Magnificent piece of work. I really should take you dancing sometime. That style of yours would have many less practical applications." There was a gleam of mischief in his eyes, but I chose to ignore it. I would not be baited as easily as Bandon had been. I did give him a smile though. "Perhaps. Let us get HK back up and running. We should be going." One restart later, and we were on our way.

We returned to the surface, where we were once again taken before the Selkath court. We were forced to reveal the Republic's treaty with the Selkath, much to the shock of several judges. Fortunately, the chief judge was already aware of the agreement, and quieted the protests from his fellows. We were thanked for sparing the giant shark, which they called the Progenitor and released. A strange business, when one stops to look back on it all, as I am now.

Our task on Manaan was complete, but we could not yet leave. All the various revelations and investigations had forced the Ahto City authorities to put a hold on incoming and outgoing vessels. The Sith embassy was closed, and all Sith were to be expelled from Manaan. A Republic fleet was en route to fortify the system, and all ships were held until they could arrive, hoping to prevent a Sith fleet from getting advance notice of what was happening and launching an attack. This left us planet-bound for a few days.

With no complaints, we all saw this as an opportunity to unwind without any sort of pressure. The Sith were quarantined in their embassy until such time as they were allowed to leave. We had 3 of the 4 Star Maps that we knew existed, and this slight delay was out of our hands. Even the Council could not fault us for our extended stay. The others went off and did whatever it was they liked. I think we were all relieved to have some time to ourselves.

Veran went swoop-racing, and I decided to follow him. It was his skill with a swoop that enabled him to win the Taris Open in his foolhardy attempt to rescue me, but I was not cognizant enough at the time to appreciate his skill, and it was his giving me an opportunity for solitude and reflection that let him race on Tatooine. I decided I wanted to watch him at this… hobby of his. He seemed to enjoy it, though when I asked him why, he would just make some comment about, "it's a male thing." I would remind him that there were plenty of female swoop jockeys as well, but he seemingly dismissed my comments out of hand. Male, indeed.

To all the other racers' surprise, Veran won the Sector Championship easily. I suspect if they knew he was a Jedi, they may have banned him from participating. He was feeling insufferably pleased with himself afterwards and insisted on taking me to dinner to celebrate. He found this little restaurant, away from the bustle of the Visitor's Quarter of Ahto City. Manaan food, while delicious to the Selkath, was distinctly less popular with their offworld guests. A Twi'lek had opened a restaurant catering to the tastes of off-worlders, and it was quite good. During dinner, however, Veran decided to go back to our last conversation.

"I wanted to ask you, about what you said before. You cut off rather abruptly." He said nonchalantly, as he cut into his meal.

I tried to shrug off the comment with the same casualness. "Yes, I did, didn't I? Perhaps a Master could have properly addressed my questions, but I should not have brought them up with you. I don't think I am the proper Jedi to guide you."

That caught his attention. "Why do you say that?"

I met his gaze, and tried to smile. "The fact of the matter is that I've never been very good at controlling myself. With the bond that joins us, it seems I have even less. You have maintained the path of the light despite my influence, not because of it. It has become increasingly clear that I am not the one to guide you."

Placing his utensils down, he sat back in his chair, his face had become unreadable. He was guarding himself. Why? I had finally said too much. It was not proper for a Jedi to show such weakness, and I had finally gone too far. "So what now?"

"I don't know. I think…. I think I may have made a very big mistake. I only hope you aren't the one to pay the price for my failings."

"Maybe we could help each other, then." Laughing lightly, he added, "you think I don't have my faults? Let me tell you a secret: the key to being a great friend or leader or whatever is knowing how to look like you know exactly what you're doing, even when you don't have a clue. There are times when I've been flying blind on this mission, with no idea if what I was doing was right or wrong."

He leaned forward, lowering his voice, as to keep the rest of the patrons from over-hearing. "Take the Sunry case, for one, or destroying the kolto harvester. I have been on edge of vomiting more times than I'd like to think since we started out on this mission, never sure if this decision was going to be the one where I'd reveal that I'm not the ' gifted prodigy' everyone seems to think I am. The only thing that has kept me from second-guessing myself into insanity is I knew that you'd be there to bring me slap me back to reality if I went too far. You've been the staff I could lean on during this quest. I couldn't have done this without you."

"That's a kinder answer than I deserve, and I am honored that you think of me in such a way." Inside, I was stunned by his answer. I never suspected he felt this way. Once again, I was trying to keep him at a distance, confessing my sins and flaws, expecting him to reject me or chastise me, and instead he offered nothing but acceptance, never judging. "You continue to be there for me, don't you? Even though I keep pushing you away, you're still around when I need you the most. You are like no man I have ever known before, and you're nothing like I expected you to be after…" Sithspit! "After the Council sent us on this mission together."

His brow furrowed, and he gave me a probing look, as if trying to read my mind. He wasn't, of course, I would have felt the touch of the Force through our bond. "How did you expect me to be? I realize we didn't really get off on the right foot, back on Taris, but I couldn't have made that bad a first impression."

I stammered a reply. The Jedi Masters may have excelled at misdirection, but it was a talent I obviously lacked. "No, no, it wasn't that. You were just… different, I suppose. Oh, I feel like a fool, trying to explain this. Things are not going as I had planned. I… I need time to think about all this. We should finish eating before our food gets cold. We paid enough for it."

Veran opened his mouth as if he were about to argue, but he closed it instead, and went back to his Alderaanian steak. The awkward silence continued for the rest of the evening, while I sat and brooded over everything, poking at the pasta I had ordered. In the end, I knew there could be only one decision.

We left the restaurant at a late hour. Eventually we moved past our awkward silence and moved to topics like HK-47's revelations about his former masters, and Jolee's long and rambling tales. I told him about my father and some of the pranks he used to play on me as a child. We spent the evening recounting some of the more amusing and embarrassing moments of our journey together, and for a while, I forgot all the things were supposed to be plaguing me. The maitre'd came up and had to ask us to leave as the restaurant was closing up around us. Neither of us had realized we had been there so long.

Walking the corridors of Ahto City back to our hotel, Veran stopped me and led me over to one railings of one of the large open areas, allowing for a view of Manaan's ocean. "By the Force, that's beautiful." The silver moon played out over the rippling water. The winds were calm and so was the sea. There were only a few misty wisps of cloud in the sky, and the stars shown clearly. It was a simple, but breathtaking sight.

We just stood there, for the next hour, just staring at the stars and at the sea, not saying a word, just enjoying the moment. We hadn't been alone like this since that night on Dantooine. We were standing so close together I could feel the warmth from his body. When I felt him place a hand on my waist, I knew I had to tell him. "I told you I needed time to think. Well I have been thinking, and you deserve an answer." I felt him stiffen next to me and his hand pulled back.

"You have been more than patient with me, so I will be direct, but you have to understand how difficult this is for me." I did not give him a chance to respond, continuing hurriedly. "With all my training, I should be able to control myself better than this, but you're not like anything I had expected. You are like no man I have ever known." I moved back and gripped the railing for support. "I find myself watching you when I don't mean to; thinking about you when I don't want to. It's not supposed to be like this!"

Veran just stood there in the same spot, his face passive, eyes unreadable. With a calm, carefully measured voice, he asked, "what's it supposed to be like, then?"

This was so frustrating! Here I was, a Jedi since the age of 5, and I was having to stammer out my feelings like a teenage girl with her first crush. In retrospect, that's exactly what I was, but feeling that way didn't make it any easier. "I don't know! It shouldn't be so hard not to think of you! I should have discipline! Jedi discipline!" My voice was growing too loud, but I didn't care. Thankfully the streets were empty of almost all but droids and the occasional guard patrol.

"Every time I try to draw upon my teachings to calm myself, they fail me! You have such power, such passion! I don't' know if it is because of our bond, but I am drawn to you! It could be simply the bond. It does lend us a certain… intimacy of thought and feeling. If I could, I would return to Dantooine. I need to be away from this bond of ours. I need to weaken it. I need to be anywhere but near you!" I put all the weight I could on that last word, driving it home, like some kind of accusation.

His face remained stony and silent. I did not know what hurt worse, what I was saying or the look in his eyes as I said it. "This is not the place for this. If you wish to truly have this all out and in the open, then we should return to the Ebon Hawk." I could not let the others see what was transpiring, for both our sakes. He just nodded once, stepped aside and gestured for me to lead the way.

Back on the ship, we went back into the men's dormitory. He set HK-47 to stand guard at the base of the ramp, and put T3-M4 into a diagnostic mode. Finally alone, I knew it was time to finish this, so I steeled my resolve. "You're stronger than I am; there's no point in denying it. You make me feel weak, like I'm caught up in the wake of our destiny. And yet, at the same time you make feel stronger, more alive."

The wall he had built up around him started to wear thin. I could feel the faintest hint of pain, both in his eyes and through our bond. "As do I," he muttered softly.

I tried to explain things as best I could. He didn't grow up in this lifestyle. I knew it would be more difficult for him. "I realize now these feelings are a result of the bond we share. With such a connection we could not help but be drawn to each other, and the Council must have known this. They knew my loyalty to the doctrines of the Order would be tested by this experience. By facing and overcoming my feelings for you, I have learned a valuable lesson about emotional control, which is something I have long needed to learn. This has been a great step in my understanding of the Force."

I looked down at the floor, unable to meet his eyes. "I know this isn't what you wanted to hear, but I felt it was important that you know our… infatuation… was nothing more than a result of our powerful bond."

"So I was just another stepping stone on your path to becoming a Jedi Master?" There was such… venom in his voice. The bond dampened down, and I knew he was angry. Yes, this was the right decision. Love itself is not of the Dark Side, but all the other emotions that come from it were too dangerous for a Jedi. This hurt me as much as him, but I had to press on.

"Please don't say it like that! You make it sound like I was using you! Don't you realize how difficult this is for me?" I looked back up, letting the pain show in my eyes. Maybe he would see that I was not as heartless as he was accusing me of being.

He threw up his arms in disgust, his voice rising to fill the small dormitory. "For you? What about for me? Force, woman, I can feel you in my head, day in and day out! Everything that hurts you hurts me. I try not to let on, because you obviously value your privacy, and I did my best to shield it out, but you think my passions are strong? You're one to talk, sister!"

His anger fed my own inner turmoil and I lashed back at him. "Why do you think I came to this decision? I know how hard this is for both of us. That's why I had to be the one to step forward and do the right thing! You're the one who can't face the truth. We have to stop Darth Malak, and we can't do that if we're… fawning over each other like a couple of adolescents!"

He stalked towards me and for a moment I was afraid the Dark Side had taken him and he meant to try and harm me. "I don't care. I'm going to stop Malak, and I want you by my side. I _need_ you by my side." He just stared down into my eyes, letting all the walls drop. I could feel the longing, the frustration, and the love within him. All those things, light and dark, spun within him, and it frightened me just a little bit, but I couldn't move away from him.

Our eyes were locked and it was if I was entranced, yet I did not feel the touch of the Force upon my mind. "You mean it don't you? But how can I be sure you aren't making a mistake? You said it yourself… No, I must be strong enough for the both of us. I must resist this." And yet, I still couldn't look away.

His voice lowered to barely a whisper, and it once again held that softness I first heard on Tatooine I was torn between my feelings for my parents. "You know I'm right, Bastila." When he leaned into kiss me, I didn't stop him. Instead, I melted into the embrace. For a brief second my only thoughts were _the council would forbid this_ and _to hell with the council_ in rapid succession.

When we finally broke apart, I returned to my senses, and realized this wouldn't help matters. No matter how strongly we felt, the Council would never permit this. As much as I wanted to be with him, there was only one way this could end, and it was better to do it now than later. I pulled out of his arms, and moved towards the door to leave. "We shouldn't have done that. It was wrong. Jedi are not allowed to fall in love."

Veran just looked over to me, his eyes dancing, and that annoying, charming smirk aimed right at me. "It didn't feel wrong to me." When all else failed, he turned to humor as his defense. Yet, I could feel the twinge of pain in him through the bond, beneath his cocky exterior, as he knew what was coming even as I said it. I had not realized how much we had both been shielding it. He was right. We could feel everything the other felt when we were this close.

"It was… a moment of weakness… when I kissed you…" No, I must not dwell on what happened. "We shouldn't have. I'm sorry. I know we both wanted it, but we shouldn't have given in to our desire. We're Jedi! We can't act like this, not while we still have to deal with Malak. I'm… I'm sorry. I don't blame you." And with that, I turned and fled the ship, but as quickly as I hurried back to the hotel, I found I could not escape the memory of us holding each other, and opening ourselves to completely to the other. Before I locked the bond down, I could feel a brief swell of anger from the other end, and I felt the sting of pain my hand as he began punching the bulkhead. I put the walls back around that tether and congratulated myself on making the right, if painful, decision.

I spent the next day avoiding him, choosing instead to spend my time with Juhani and Jolee, or even Canderous and HK-47, anything to keep from being alone with Veran. They all knew something was up, because every time Veran came around, I became cold and distant. Juhani knew better than to ask, and Jolee only tried once to "help", as did Mission, but I calmly told them both that I was did not need their interference. Carth and Canderous were wise enough to leave the subject alone, at least for the time being. The droids and the Wookie didn't care, thank the Force

Later that day, we received our authorization to leave. It was a relief to be on our way again. With only one Star Map left, I could look forward to returning to Dantooine and getting the master's help in finally severing this bond. Yet, as we left behind the serene world where I had found allowed myself to taste my own forbidden desires against all my teachings, I found that the thought gave me little comfort. Little did I know what was about to happen.


	9. Chapter 8 The Belly of the Beast

Hearts Eye View – Chapter 08

Belly of the Beast

_Disclaimer: George Lucas and Bioware own everything. I'm merely having some fun in their playground. Besides which, I'm just a poor, unemployed college graduate (woohoo!!!!) so suing me will get you nothing but the rights to my student loan payments._

Two days out, Veran finally caught me alone on the bridge. I braced myself for what was to come. "Bastila, we need to talk." His voice was tense, but calmer than I would have expected.

I refused to turn around. This was more difficult for me than I anticipated. It wasn't the waking hours that were bothering me. I had become quite adept at avoiding him, even in this tiny ship. What was tormenting me were the dreams. Some had us entwined, the sensations so real, I could almost smell him. Others saw him as Darth Revan, stalking me through the ship. It was all I could do not to wake up crying. I prayed that Veran was not receiving these dreams as well.

"We have nothing to talk about, Veran. Not now. Please. Let us complete our mission." I said, with strained tones. I couldn't keep him away forever. We both felt too strongly for that, but I could not, _would_ not, let these feelings get in the way of our mission. The sooner he accepted that, the easier it would be on both of us.

"Bantha poodoo, we have nothing to talk about. We have a lot to talk about, I'm just the only one without a lightsaber shoved up my…" the ship lurched suddenly, and the hyperspace collision alarm went off. Veran was thrown into my back, which sent us both into the console. We both struggled to look up, and before us we saw the silvery, gleaming hull of a Sith Interdictor.

Carth came running up from the dorms, fastening his armor as he went. We couldn't see his face, but from the way he seemed to choke for a moment, I can only assume the rear view of the position Veran and I were in was more than merely embarrassing, despite our desperate situation. I'm sure the sight of me, thrown over the bridge console with Veran atop me was a sight that I can only now find amusing.

"It's a Sith Interdictor! They must have laying in wait along the hyperspace route between Korriban and Manaan. Its pretty obvious they figured out what we're up to." I pushed Veran off me and smoothed my clothing out. "Do you know which ship it is?"

"It's the Leviathan, Saul Karath's ship." With that one statement, Carth leaned back in the pilots chair and seemed to be pondering the possibilities. Karath had betrayed Carth and the Republic, and was responsible for bombing his homeworld, killing his wife. I did not need to be a Jedi to know that he wanted revenge.

The shudder of the tractor beams pulling us in told us that escape was impossible. Everyone met in the main room. "We need a plan of escape. Saul isn't stupid. He'll be watching Bastila, Veran, and I like a raptor."

"You're right, Carth. Our one chance is that he probably doesn't know how many of us are on this vessel. We all have unique abilities. Someone should be able to affect a rescue." This was our only hope. We would surely be outnumbered, not only with troops, but with Dark Jedi as well. We could not hope to prevail against such odds.

Veran was the first to speak up. "HK-47, you have any extra features that might prove useful."

"Statement: Affirmative, master. I have a backup memory storage unit, enabling me to fake shutdown. Merely wipe my primary memory and deactivate me. The Sith will take me to a maintenance bay where I can then effect your rescue."

Veran nodded his agreement. "Sound like a plan then."

"Good, they're pulling us into the landing bay now. Hold on." Carth seemed to almost anticipate our capture. I hoped he wouldn't do anything foolish. We were slowly pulled into a docking bay which was then promptly sealed. When we lowered the landing ramp, there were 8 Sith and an entire platoon of Sith troopers waiting at the base. We quietly surrendered, and were quickly stripped of our weapons, armor, and robes. Carth, Veran, and I were taken to an interrogation chamber, while the others were escorted to set of holding cells. We could only hope that the Sith didn't just dismantle HK-47 on the spot.

The three of us were placed within torture fields and minutes later, Admiral Saul Karath graced us with his presence. He was a tall, gaunt man whose face showed the lines of stress and age. His eyes shown with the intensity of a man who had seen and done too much, and lost a piece of his soul in the process.

Carth and Saul attacked each other verbally for a few moments before the Admiral dismissed him as unimportant. It was then that he turned his attention to Veran and I. I met his gaze, stating, "We will never turn to the Dark Side, Admiral Karath. The Sith will be destroyed, as will you if you continue on this path."

The admiral sneered, as I expected. "Your words are brave, Bastila, but I wonder if your convictions are as strong. And what about your friend here? Is he as devoted a servant of the light as you are?"

Veran straightened at Karath's implied comment. "I will never betray the Jedi, Karath."

He just laughed at that statement. "I'm sure Lord Malak will find your loyalty to the Jedi most amusing. Malak may reward me for just killing you here and now, but he may want to interrogate you first, given your history together."

By the Force, no! I should have realized Karath would have been one of the few Sith to recognize Revan! He couldn't find out like this! The admiral appeared stunned. "You mean… you really don't understand what's going on here do you? Oh this is hilarious! I will not deprive Lord Malak the pleasure of telling you himself. However, since he is not here at the moment, I will have to do my best in his stead. Don't worry, he will return soon."

I tried to summon up as much defiance as I could, given our situation. "You are wasting your time, Admiral. We will not answer your questions."

He just looked back at me with an amused expression. "Oh, of that, I have no doubt. However, I wonder how your friend will hold up. We both know his loyalties have been somewhat flexible in the past."

Veran seemed to grow more and more confuses and scared. I think part of him could tell what was coming, on some subconscious level, and the part of him that was Veran was fighting it. "What are you talking about?!"

"I shall ask the questions here." Karath moved over to a control panel and activated our torture fields. They were ingeniously designed to trigger the nerve centers to cause pain without actually damaging the subjects permanently. I had never been in one before, and I hope never to be again. The pain was excruciating, and I could hear all our screams as our bodies were wracked by an invisible flame that we could not see or escape.

"That was just a taste of what is to come. I know you are too strong-willed to be broken by pain. However, Jedi do have that wonderful concern for the well-being of others. I wonder if you'll keep your defiance if you have to watch Bastila suffer for your silence."

Veran looked over at me suddenly, and then grimaced at his mistake. His emotional attachment to me had just given Karath a weapon he could use against him. I just said, "Tell him nothing."

The admiral just smirked. "Let us begin. Where is the Jedi academy you trained at?"

Veran just held my gaze, as if pleading for forgiveness. He then looked down at the floor, and barely whispered, "Alderaan. They're on Alderaan."

Karath snorted derisively. "Alderaan is a plant of artisans and philosophers! There is no academy there! You must think I am a fool. Very well then." With a flick of a button, my world was redefined as pain. He obviously set the booth for a higher level. Even through I had prepared myself, I could not help but shriek in agony. It was only a few moments, but it felt like hours.

"That question was a test. Obviously, we knew you came from the Enclave on Dantooine, and we have already razed it to the ground. Your precious masters are dead." The pain at the thought of Dantooine's destruction hurt worse than the torture field. Everyone I knew… dead.

Veran just clenched his fists and glared vibroblades at Karath. "You'll pay for this, Saul."

"Yes, yes, I believe Carth and I already covered the empty threats earlier. Now then, how much have you learned from the Star Maps? How much does the Republic know?"

Veran's only response was, "Go to the abyss, Karath."

The admiral was, of course, unphased. His expressions never changed as he activated my torture field again, this time even higher. Mercifully I passed out.

I awoke again to find HK-47 standing over me. "Statement: Good. You're awake. I have unlocked the cells and rescued the others. Query: Is there anyone else for me to kill now, masters?"

Veran was also just returning to consciousness. "No, but I'd love some pain meds right now."

Carth helped us both to our feet. "Saul kept the fields on, even after we passed out. He's become some kind of sadistic monster."

"The Dark Side has corrupted him as thoroughly as it has Malak, Carth." I looked over to Veran, to find him standing, albeit it shakily. "Did you tell him anything?"

"No." He looked away from me. "I'm sorry, Bastila. I couldn't… make him stop."

"Don't be. You did the right thing. Even the slightest bit of information could have untold consequences for the galaxy. I will confess there was a moment when I wished you'd tell him something, anything, to make the pain stop." Neither of us could look at the other it seemed.

Carth interjected in the middle of this awkward moment. "Do you believe what he said about Dantooine?"

"Yes. I'd like to believe he was lying, but somehow I just know it's true. We should have felt something in the Force, however. The Dark Side is growing stronger, blocking our senses." The thought of Zhar, Vandar, and even Vrook being dead… no, I couldn't deal with that now.

Looking back up at us, Veran asked, "Where's Saul now?"

"I woke up before either of you. Guess Saul didn't think I was worth the full treatment. He was headed for the bridge, saying something about preparing for Malak's return."

The others filed into the torture room, fully equipped. Canderous spoke up, "All our gear is stored two rooms over. Not that I don't enjoy the view, princess, but you're going to need more than that to get off this ship." My body ached too much for me to glare at the Mandalorian, but I just nodded, and the three of gathered our things. Once back in my dueling leathers and with the comforting weight of my lightstaff on my hip, I began to feel better.

"Alright, so what now?" was Canderous' next question.

It was Carth who had our answer. "I know these ships. The only way we're getting out of here is to override the tractor control on the bridge. Someone will need to get the Ebon Hawk prepped for take-off too."

Veran nodded. "Well, why don't we three head to the bridge and take care of the tractor beam situation. I'm sure we can take a shot at the Admiral while we're there," he added, giving Carth a rather intense look.

"You don't have to worry about me going off on some quest for vengeance. If Saul is on the bridge, all I ask is that you let me deal with him. Okay?"

"Done and done. Canderous, take the others, liberate the ship and get her ready to go. We'll meet you on the hangar deck when we've disabled the tractor beam.

"Roger that. Come on, people. Let's get off this boat." With that, the old war veteran led the others to the turbolift. Juhani cast a concerned look back at as they left, but Jolee took her gently by the arm.

I did give Carth one warning: "don't give into the Dark Side, Carth. I know you want revenge, but don't let it dominate you. Either of you."

Veran and Carth just nodded silently. I just hoped we could get off this ship before Malak returned. We were not equipped to face the Dark Lord of the Sith.

Reaching the bridge level, we found that our escape had finally been noticed. The main hatch to the bridge was sealed, so we had to fight our way to an airlock, secure some space suits and then actually go for a walk on the ship's hull. Fortunately, the bridge airlock security wasn't as tight as it was on the main hatch, and Veran was able to slice our way in.

Once there, we confronted the admiral and his two Sith protectors. Veran and I dealt with them, while Carth and Saul had their final confrontation. In some ways, it was anti-climactic. Carth was not only faster, but a better marksman and one well-placed shot to the lungs later, Admiral Saul Karath was down, gurgling his last few breaths. Before I could stop him, however, the admiral whispered something to Carth, which I had prayed he would never learn. Carth stood up and turned to face us, a look of shock on his face.

"Is… is what he said true, Bastila? It can't be true… can it? Damn it, Saul! Damn you! Talk to me, Bastila!"

Veran tried to intervene. "Calm down, Carth. What did he say to you?" Carth ignored him, and brutally shoved him aside, almost knocking him into the crew pit. The look on his face and he shoved him aside was one of pure malice. Veran seemed shocked by such treatment from one he considered a friend.

"It is true, isn't it? And you and the whole damn council knew! No wonder you kept throwing me out of the room whenever you wanted to talk!"

"Carth, please, it's not what you think! We had no choice!" This was spiraling out of control. I could feel the Dark Lord's presence moving closer. We were almost out of time. Veran was growing more confused.

"Would someone please tell me what we're supposed to be so upset about?"

"I promise, I'll explain everything, to _both_ of you, but not here!"

Carth just glared at me like he wanted to strangle me with his bare hands. "Fine. But once we're off this ship, I'm getting some answers, Council be damned!" With that, he turned and stalked off, refusing to look at either of us. I dreaded returning to the ship. I would have to tell Carth everything, and I knew Veran would not be left out of that discussion, nor would the others. He would hate me forever, and the rest would never trust a word I said again, and that was just the best case scenario. The worst was that this would trigger the return of Revan.

We made our way in strained silence to the hanger level. Veran received a comm. "It's Canderous. We've made it to the Ebon Hawk and all systems are go. Get down here so we can leave."

I felt a tension in my chest. We were about to escape, but I would be the one facing summary judgment by all of them. I was so worried about how I was going to handle this; I didn't feel the dark presence waiting for us.

As we opened the outer hatch, leading to one of the smaller storage bays adjacent to the main hanger, we found the imposing figure of Darth Malak, standing there, waiting. His missing jaw was replaced with a cybernetic device that allowed him to speak through a droid vo-coder. He wore a red armor, not too dissimilar from HK-47's coloring, which was laced with cortosis, black cloak thrown back over one shoulder, and in his hand was his custom lightsaber, its blade several inches longer than a normal one, allowing him greater reach.

And arrayed against him were two Padawan and a Republic soldier. The fear that gripped my heart in that instant was unlike anything I had ever felt before. I had long-fantasized about facing him in combat and besting him. It seems the Force had granted my wish, and I regretted it utterly.

Carth drew his blasters with blinding speed. "Down you go!" But his effort was in vain. With a casual spin of his blade, his shots were deflected, and a gesture of his hand sent him flying back against a bulkhead.

The mechanized voice chortled as it strode forward. "I hope you weren't thinking of leaving so soon, Bastila. I've spent far too much energy hunting down you and your companions to have you get away from me now. Besides, I had to see for myself if it was true." He turned to face Veran, and the moment I had dreaded finally came to pass. "Tell me, why did the Council let you live? Is it vengeance you seek at this reunion?"

Veran stepped back, his voice trembling, not with fear but with dread. "Reunion? What are you talking about?"

Malak threw his head back and roared with laughter. "What? You mean you don't know?! All this time, and you still haven't figured it out?" Malak seemed to almost be beside himself with mirth. Part of me screamed _strike now!_, but I couldn't. Every once of my will was focused in the vain attempt to somehow stop this entire scene from happening.

"I wonder how long you would have remained blind to the truth. Surely some of what you are must have resurfaced by now. Even the combined power of the Jedi Council couldn't keep your true identity submerged forever."

I closed my eyes as I felt the bond between us grow cold. I stared at him as he seemed to go to some faraway place, as the color drained out of his face. I could only imagine what was flashing before his eyes at that moment. Memories, of me, the council, of his old life? I couldn't know, but my heart went out to him. He should never have had to learn the truth like this.

Darth Malak took one step towards him. "You cannot hide from what you once were, Revan! Know that you were once the Dark Lord of the Sith, and that I have taken your place!"

Ve… Revan just kept taking steps backwards, shaking his head. "No… it's not true. This is some kind of Sith trick!" The look of panic and disbelief in his eyes tore at me. I could not imagine the horror he must be feeling right now.

"You do not yet remember, Revan? The Jedi set a trap for us, luring us into battle with a small Republic fleet. During the battle, a Jedi strike team bordered your ship and took you captive. They took you to the Jedi Council, who wiped your mind and replaced it with one more to their liking."

"NO! I don't' believe you!" He tried to protest, but there was no strength to his words.

"You must have seen flashes of your life from before, Revan. In your dreams, or as visions. Surely you must remember the battle in which you were captured."

Revan's eyes moved to me, and I saw the slow dawning of comprehension. He knew. The visions, the dreams we shared. It wasn't our bond. It was him. His memories or what was left of them. In that moment, he knew the truth.

"How… how… did they capture Revan… me?" he asked softly, as if searching for a way to make sense of it all.

Malak chuckled again. "Because I helped them, Revan. I always knew one day the title of Dark Lord would be mine, and when I saw the Jedi boarding your ship, I knew my time had come. I ordered my ship to fire on your bridge. I thought I could remove all my enemies in one glorious stroke. I never dreamed the Jedi would take you alive from the wreckage."

"Is this true, Bastila?" His voice was low, and there was an undertone I could not identify. No, that's not true. I didn't want to identify it. It was anger.

"It's true. I was part of the team sent to capture Revan… to capture you. When Malak fired on your ship, we thought you were dead. Your mind was destroyed, due to the head injuries you sustained, but I used the Force to hold onto that last flicker of life in your body. I took you to the Council to heal your damaged mind."

He looked at me, confused. "But… my memories… my life… where did they come from?"

Malak interjected before I could explain. "The Jedi didn't restore your wounded mind, Revan! They replaced it with one of their making – one loyal to the Republic. They turned you into their slave!"

The anger in his eyes grew as he looked at me. His face twisted into a snarl. "You've been lying to me this whole time?!"

Malak just stood their, triumphant in this revelation. "You know the truth now, Revan. The Council has failed to make you their pawn! The will of a Sith Lord is not so easily manipulated.

"You _used me!_ You're no better than the Sith!" The rage and pain and betrayal I saw in his eyes cut me worse than any lightsaber wound I had ever suffered. I had to try and make him understand!

"How can you say that? Malak nearly killed you! The Council gave you another chance to live, to redeem yourself by stopping Malak." He must see reason. It was for the best. It was not my choice, but the Council was right. There was no other way.

"A rash and futile hope," the Dark Lord sneered. "The Dark Side is too strong, my power is too great! Even my old master cannot stop me now. A small part of me has always regretted killing you from afar, Revan. I always knew some would think I acted out of fear, that I was afraid to face you."

Malak ignited his lightsaber and gestured through the Force. I was too distraught by Veran's rage to raise my defenses in time, and Carth and I were trapped in a Force Stasis field. "Now fate has given me a second chance. The Jedi were foolish to let you live. Now we shall face each other in single combat, as the Sith traditions dictate, and when I win, my triumph will be complete!"

Revan turned to face Malak, a smoldering look in his eyes. He pulled both sabers from his belt and in a low voice that reminded me far too much of the man I faced on the _Titan_, he said, "Triumph, Malak? You forget that I'm still alive."

With that, he ignited his blue and gold lightsabers and attacked the Dark Lord in a rapid flurry of blows that Malak parried, though not with ease, I noted. I was helpless to do anything but watch. I knew this field would not hold me long, but Malak did not need long to cut Revan down. This was a worse torture than the pain booths we had been in just an hour ago.

Malak retook the offensive, unleashing a combination of hard slashes and strikes against his former master. Their styles were complete opposites. Malak relied on brute strength and power to wear down his opponent. Revan relied on speed and grace. He did not parry the blows, but instead let them just narrowly miss his agile form, taunting Malak. I should have been pleased that he was holding his own, but I saw the truth of it: Revan was channeling his anger, his pain, and his frustration into fighting Malak: He was calling upon the Dark Side.

Executing a deadly pirouette with his twin blades, he drove Malak back towards the adjoining cargo bay. Even the Dark Lord seemed ill-prepared for the ferocity of Revan's assault. His prowess was amazing, and I could not believe the skill he showed in that duel, Dark Side or not. Malak tried slicing his legs away, much as I had Bandon's, during one whirling attack, and Revan merely leaped and twisted over the cut like a bird, landing back on his feet, his blades extended, one arched overhead, just as he had when I faced him aboard his ship.

Malak took this chance to try another Force Stasis, this time on Revan. He must not have been prepared for such a tactic, as it succeeded in imprisoning him. Fortunately, the shifting of his attention released Carth and me from our own prisons. I ignited my lightstaff, and threw it at Darth Malak. The crimson-clad figure barely had a chance to leap clear with a back-flip. Seeing that he had been forced back into the adjoining chamber, I called my blade back to my hand and charged the Sith Lord.

I heard Revan shout, "No!" as well as Carth's outburst of, "Bastila! Don't! You can't beat him!" I shouted back as Malak recovered from my sudden intrusion in the battle and called back, "Get out of here! Find the Star Forge! It's our only hope!" I saw Malak gesture once towards the door, and a blast door sealed behind me, cutting me off from them.

The Dark Lord of the Sith strode towards me, his lightsaber raised for attack. "I see we're alone now, Bastila. Don't worry; they have no choice but to honor your 'noble sacrifice.' They won't be able to cut through that blast door. It has an emergency force field to reinforce it. Even a lightsaber won't damage it."

I struck a defensive stance. "You cannot win, Malak." I knew I was merely echoing the same vain words I said to Revan on the _Titan_. Somehow, it seemed appropriate as an epitaph.

Malak just chuckled. "I find your defiance amusing, child. I hope you don't break as easily as some of the others I've captured." He assaulted me with a hammer-like tenacity. I parried each of his blows, but each one drained my already tired body. Before I could get my bearings and retaliate, the Sith Lord lashed out with a Force Strike, sending me crashing headfirst back into a cargo crate.

The blow to the head was too much for my strained system, and I felt the world fading away. As I felt myself slip into unconsciousness, I used the last of my energy to send one last thought down our bond to Revan… Veran… in the end, it didn't matter his name.

_I'm sorry…_


	10. Chapter 9 Always Darkest

Hearts Eye View – Chapter 09

Always Darkest

_Disclaimer: George Lucas and Bioware own everything. I'm merely having some fun in their playground. Besides which, I'm just a poor, unemployed college graduate (woohoo!!!!) so suing me will get you nothing but the rights to my student loan payments._

_Authors' Note: This chapter is fairly dark, depicting acts of torture and torment. While not graphic in nature, it may be disturbing to some people, so read with caution. Also, a scene in here directly contradicts events of Knights of the Old Republic 2. If that matters to you, consider yourself warned._

I awoke from darkness into darkness. When I tried to move, I felt my hands and feet bound. I slowly brought my senses back to their full strength, and I realized I was tied down to some kind of stone slab, tilted up at a rough angle. I was still clothed at least, though my lightsaber was gone, of course; better than I could have expected from Malak. I reached out to my bond with Revan, but it was too faint, almost non-existent. Wherever he was, we were too far apart. I hope he got my last message.

No sooner did I think his name, and in he walked. The lights flickered on, and I could tell I was in some kind of stone structure. It had the feel of a temple of some kind, an old one. Malak strode slowly towards me, his cloak shifting all his shoulder. "Ahhh, it is good to see you are awake, Bastila. I've so wanted to talk with you."

I just looked defiantly at him. "You shall get nothing from me, Malak. Kill me and be done with it."

"Kill you? Bastila, why would I want to kill someone as gifted as you?" his voice chuckling as he talked.

"Do you honestly think I would join a creature as despicable as you? I know what you want: my Battle Meditation. I would sooner embrace death than the darkness you represent."

The Dark Lord prowled around the room, barely paying any attention to me directly. "Oh, you will turn, Bastila. I know you will." With that statement, he turned towards me, and unleashed a hail of Force Lightning. I screamed, of course, and writhed on the stone slab I was shackled to. He would stop for a few moments to let me rest, then unleash it again.

He repeated the process several more times. I finally managed to gasp out, "you're a fool, if you'll think this will turn me to the Dark Side."

I could barely see him. My eyes hurt, and my muscles screamed in agony. I knew I could not stop the torture, but if I could just keep him gloating for a few minutes, I might at least catch my breath. "You are strong, child, but I _will_ break you."

"I will never fall to the Dark Side." My tone had more confidence than I actually felt. Not that I had any doubts to my ability to remain true to the light; simply that I doubted my chances of survival. Revan and the others still had to locate the last Star Map, and there was no guarantee that I was near that location. This chamber I was being held in certainly didn't look like a Star Forge.

"You misunderstand me, Bastila. This is but a taste of the Dark Side. When you join us, it will be of your own free will."

"Never!" I spat venomously. Was this man that much of an idiot? I had sworn to uphold the tenets of the Order. I would never willingly forswear my allegiance. Malak just chuckled and resumed his demonstrations of Dark Side power.

I don't know how long we went on like that. Inside that room, there was no way to mark time, and our "talking" was a nightmare. It seemed to go on for an eternity, though it was probably not more than several days. I knew it would take nearly a fortnight to reach Korriban from Manaan, not counting however long it took to actually locate the Star Map. Plus, there was the travel time from Korriban to the Star Forge, assuming I was anywhere near there. I didn't feel drugged when I awoke the first time, so wherever I was must be within a few days travel of Manaan. That was heartwarming, at least.

I was eventually released from my place on the stone. Malak calculated rightly that repeated exposure to lightning would have an adverse effect on my muscles, rendering me incapable of all but the least intensive movement. I was fed nothing but dirty water and moldy bread, barely fit to eat. He was trying to break my body, and he was succeeding. I refused to let him break my spirit. Veran would come for me.

The next time he returned, he just walked in and circled me. "We have finished with the preliminaries, Bastila. I'm sure you're quite hungry. Answer me one question, and I will see to it that you have real sustenance this evening." I just ignored him. I would not give the time of day, even if I knew what that was.

"Why did you save him, Bastila? Why did you save Revan?"

Of all the questions I had expected, that was not one of them. After waiting a moment, I once again felt the caress of his lightning. In some ways, it was worse than the pain booth on the Leviathan. "Why did you save him, child? It is a simple question. Answering it will betray no one, except perhaps yourself."

I rolled onto my side and glared at him. "Has it been so long since you were a Jedi that you cannot answer that yourself? I saved him because a Jedi values life!" I croaked. My response was greeted with another burst of force lightning.

"That is what you get for lying. Now, tell me the real reason you saved him."

I gasped out, "I am not lying!" Another bolt lashed out. "Tell me, Bastila."

I started to cry. "I _am _telling you! Why won't you believe me?"

He hit me again with his power. I could feel my muscles spasming against my will. The pain was horrible enough, but the feeling of loss of control over my own body was worse. "Because you lie to yourself, not to me." I was in agony, yet he repeated the question over and over again, and every time I didn't respond or gave him a response he didn't like, he'd just do it again. This went on for what felt like hours, before he left me alone. I couldn't cry any more; I was out of tears. _Veran, where are you?_

After the third repetition of this question and answer session, I broke down. I had spent what little conscious time I could manage, replaying the events that led to my capturing Revan, trying to find an answer that would make the pain stop, but I couldn't think of one. I did what any Jedi would do in my position. Malak returned again, and I cringed visibly. "Are you ready to tell the truth now, Bastila?" I felt a flicker of energy pass over me, but he did not truly unleash that power again.

"Please…" I whispered. I knew a plea for mercy was idiotic, but I didn't want to go through this again. "Tell me!" he roared. I hadn't realized until that agonizing moment that he had been holding back. He wasn't any longer. My mouth opened but I couldn't scream. For an eternity, my entire world ceased to exist, and I was defined only as sheer agony. When he started to lighten the barrage, I knew I had to stop this. I tried to speak but could barely form sounds.

The assault ceased. I felt Malak's shadow fall over me as I writhed on the floor. "Say it," he muttered softly. Between gasps for air, I managed to speak it aloud. "Because I wanted to be the one who brought him back. I wanted the council to applaud my single-handedly salvaging the situation."

"That, dear Bastila, is the truth." With that, he turned and left, and I was allowed to sink into oblivion.

He actually left me alone, for a time. The food left for me was better, at least edible: clean water and broth of some kind. Part of me was ashamed for my blatant admission. Another part told me I was being foolish. What did it matter if I had my own reasons for doing the right thing? Ambition was hardly a sin. Malak would not twist that act. And if admitting one sordid detail about myself was all it took for a brief reprieve, what did it matter? The others would be here eventually. Waiting games served me, not him.

When he did finally return, I was capable of sitting up, if not actually standing to face him. "Ah, it's good to see you've regained your strength, child."

"Save your false sympathies, Malak. What question will it be now?" With my energy recovered somewhat, I could afford some imperiousness again.

"Have you ever wondered why Revan and I betrayed the Council?"

What was this? Why was he asking these questions? Hesitantly, I answered, "yes."

He looked at me, eyes blazing with an intensity I could not read as he answered.

"During the Mandalorian Wars, we realized the truth about the Jedi Council: they were nothing but a group of old men, sitting in their towers passing judgment over the galaxy without ever having walked in it! And for what? To protect the pockets of greedy senators? Bah! Revan realized what no one else at the time was willing to: we didn't need the Council! We didn't need the Order! We struck out on our own, and we accomplished the impossible!"

I couldn't help but sneer at this delusional man. "Yes, and in doing so, you came back and caused more deaths than all the Mandalorian atrocities combined. Truly, you are the fools, not the Council."

Malak's glare turned not hostile, but amused. "So you mean to tell me you've never defied the will of the Council? You've never once thought yourself above them?"

I hesitated. "Of course, I had. We all do at one point or another, early in the training. The only difference is that I did not let myself become blinded by such prideful ambitions."

The Sith Lord chuckled as he paces to the far side of the chamber, but said nothing at first. "What have the masters told you, Bastila? That you were important? Destined for something great?"

I kept my tongue. Yes, they had. Many times, sometimes till I was sick of it. "I'll take your silence as confirmation. Would you like to know a little secret? They tell that to all the Padawan and Knights, then they act like only they can guide you to your destiny."

"You know nothing, Malak." This was the best attempt at conversion he could come up with? Pitiful.

"We now proceed to the next question. How have they helped you realize that destiny, Bastila?" He swiveled to face me directly.

I just looked at him in disbelief. I expected questions about the strength of the order, how close we were to the Star Maps, not these games. "They have trained me in the Force, and they guide me on the path of light, so I will be able to meet my destiny."

My response was met with another wave of Force Lightning. "Wrong answer." He strode towards me, purposefully. I had almost forgotten what that felt like, and like a cut newly healed over, it ripped the wound open, more painful than the last time.

"What do you want from me, you despicable filthy spawn of a Hutt?!" I screamed at him with all my strength.

"I want you to look past the lies that have been woven around you all your life! I want you to see how the Jedi have bound, blinded, and enslaved you! You call me a monster, but I am no worse than they, and some might call me better for my honesty!" He grabbed me by my throat and picked me up off the floor. I tried to kick him in his groin, but his armor absorbed my feeble attempt at an assault. He then threw me against the wall. I felt one of my ribs give way as I impacted the stone surface.

"I know what you are hoping, Bastila. You think he will come for you, your dear Revan. And you know something? You're right. He will sweep in here and try to rescue you. But will it matter?" I looked up at him, my world spinning. The Sith Lord held out a holographic imager, and appearing before me was a secure-cam image of Revan and I standing next to the sea on Ahto City, looking at the stars.

My heart leapt at the memory of that night, all of it, and I cringed at the thought of what happened afterwards. "Yes, Bastila, I know what you feel for him. Would it surprise you to learn that I once loved him like a brother, despite my attempts to kill him? He always could inspire loyalty. Do you know how I lost my jaw?"

I could barely shake my head, though the stabbing in my chest was now beginning to fade. "I'm sure you know Revan preferred more subtle tactics to my more aggressive approach. He thought worlds should be taken as intact as possible, whereas I felt a few object lessons would show others the dangers of resisting. By now, you've heard all about Admiral Karath's attack on Telos, yes? How could you not, given your traveling companions. I was the one who ordered the devastation of Telos as a test. When Revan learned of it, he sliced my jaw off with a single wave of his blade. No warning, nothing. He did _this... _" he snarled, ripping off his collar, showing the travesty his face had become, "to his oldest friend and comrade! That is when I knew I would kill him and take his place. That is when my loyalty vanished."

He struggled to regain his composure, as he reattached his cybernetic replacement. "My point is, Bastila, is that no matter what you feel for him, the Council will never let you be together. You know this. Perhaps you've already tried to cut him off, 'for your own good' and all that other drivel."

Managing to slide to a sitting position against the wall, I grimaced as my rib shifted internally. "The rules against emotional attachments are what help protect us from the Dark Side."

Another barrage of Force Lightning ripped over my body, and I screamed again. This time I could taste blood in my mouth. I was beginning to bleed internally, whether from the rib or his repeated assaults I couldn't guess. "Those rules exist so you will not have divided loyalties. The council wants your only thought to be to serve them. It has grown late, Bastila, I will leave you to these thoughts. Until next time." Malak bowed as if he were a gentleman and left me alone in my stone prison.

I was tired; tired of the pain, tired of the hunger, tired of the denial. I wanted Veran to come save me, but Malak was right about one thing. Even if he did, I would never be able to stay with him. If the council found out about our feelings, and how could they not, then we would be separated. Even if they never learned of it, we would have to hide our feelings constantly, never being allowed to kiss or touch or… I tried to clear my head of these thoughts, but I needed something to hold onto.

I tried to use the Force to heal myself, but it was blocked here. I couldn't touch the Force. I had tried before, but had assumed it was the pain and stress that was preventing me from doing so. But Malak accessed it easily enough, or the Dark Side anyway. I had heard stories of places of dark power, where the light was blocked. Maybe this temple was one of them. That would explain why the bond was inert. Perhaps Veran thought me dead. Or he could have died on Korriban. There was no way to know. The thought sent me into a panic. I couldn't withstand Malak forever. He had to come… he had to…

As I lay there, I drifted in and out of consciousness. I remembered my training at the hands of Master Vrook; I remember Veran studying with Master Zhar. I remember being told about my destiny, as well as Veran's. But… I remember hearing snippets of other conversations between masters and apprentices. They were being told how special they were, what great things they would do. How many were told that? Was it just a form of positive reinforcement?

My mind started pondering all that Malak had said. What had they done for me? I had felt on more than one occasion that they were holding me back, but always chastised myself for such thoughts afterwards. I looked back on the war. They always sent me to the front lines, using my Battle Meditation to help keep the Republic from certain defeat. Yet, they never left the Enclave. Jedi fought and died by the hundreds in two separate wars, and the masters never left their enclave.

Resentment began to stir within me. I saw the faces of those Jedi who died trying to capture Revan. Why did they send a group of neophyte Padawan on such an important assignment? Why not one of the masters? Because I was so important, or because I was expendable? And then I remembered how Juhani came to embrace the Dark Side however briefly. It was a part of the training. Her master lured her into anger, and then let another Padawan clean it up, when it went back. Quatra did not even have the decency to stay and ensure a peaceful outcome. What if things had gone differently? What if Veran had not had the wisdom to reach her? The council would have sacrificed her for their object lesson. After all, why not? In either case, they would be able to judge the reborn Revan for themselves.

He was telling the truth. By the Force, Malak may be a twisted, brute of a man, but in this one instance, he was correct. I could see it now. The Council used me, used Revan, used all the Jedi. And what did we get for our loyalty? Death and betrayal. We were ripped from our parents at a young age. We were forbidden to love. We were forbidden to do anything that might make us think for ourselves. They stripped away all that made us who we are, and replaced it only with blind devotion to a group that cared nothing about us as individuals. The Sith may be evil, but how much more evil was it to manipulate those who believe in you and look up to you?

I began to cry as I realized all this, and I didn't fight it. I let all the pain and fright and resentment pour out of me and onto the floor of my prison. Malak was right. I loved Veran. I loved him, and I wanted to be with him, and I knew I would lose him if I were to remain with the Jedi. But what could I do? Even I could not fight the entire Order. I doubt Veran could either.

_No. There is a way. _ That one thought sprung on me like a nexu from behind. If I could not be a Jedi, there was the Sith path. My heart trembled as I contemplated this. It would mean giving myself over to everything I despised, but could I truly serve the council anymore? Their manipulation and hypocrisy disgusted me. But could I truly give myself to the Dark Side?

That's when it all unfurled before my eyes: the path I could take. Malak was a brute. The worst atrocities of this war were to be lain at his feet. I could learn from him, then dispatch him myself, and take his place. After all, was that not the Sith way? He would no doubt expect this too, but that would be part of the challenge. I could end the war, and unite the galaxy, by killing him. And with the Republic gone, a new government could rise up, one that could actually accomplish things, not bicker over trivial details. Even a new order could be founded, borrowing upon both Jedi and Sith teachings. Yes…

And what of Revan? He knew the power of the Dark Side once. I was sure I could bring him back to it. Together, we would be unstoppable. I was not a military leader, but he was. He could rule the day, and I would be by his side, second only to him. At night… the thought made me smile as I thought of all the things Jedi were forbidden to do. Yes, at night we would be lovers, beholden to no one but ourselves. If he refused to see the true path, I would have to kill him though. The thought of that troubled me, but as I saw it, the ending would be no different than if we both stayed slaves of the council. It would be better this way. And I was sure I could persuade him to join me. I knew him like no other, thanks to our bond and the time we spent together.

All my life, I had been told my passions were something to be suppressed, restrained. All my life had failed at containing them. All my life, Vrook and the others had chastised me for this weakness. I remember the one time I let my passions free, that night on Manaan, on the Ebon Hawk. Passion was strength. Serenity had abandoned me here, to Malak's tender mercies. What would my passions do for me?

I reached down into myself, and called upon my resentment and fury at the council for using me, at Malak for torturing, and at myself for denying my true self for far too long. I felt the Force return to me, and my pain began to ease, both physical and spiritual. My rib mended itself, and my muscles ceased their throbbing. Strength filled me, a strength I had never known before. This was what I had kept from myself, what the Council sought to hide from me. This was true power, not the indentured servitude of the Order. I would have a glorious destiny, one of my own making, not the Jedi Masters'.

Malak returned shortly thereafter. I stood to face him, defiant. He stood in the doorway, looking at me. He raised his hand to unleash yet another burst of lightning. This time I raised my own hand, pulling the arcs of electricity into my hand, and then returned it to him. It struck him in the chest, and sent him stumbling backwards for a moment.

I just stood there, one hand on my hip, smirking. "I've had quite enough of that, _Lord_ Malak. You'll need to learn new tricks if you want to try and terrorize me."

The so-called Dark Lord of the Sith looked at me with admiration. "I don't believe that will be necessary. Will it, Bastila? Or should I say, my apprentice?"

"No, I don't think it will, _master_." I let that word roll off my tongue like a piece of candy I had just licked up. I doubt Malak had any interest in physical pleasure given all that had happened to him, but he was still a male; still thought like one. He stepped from the doorway to let me out.

I walked slowly, stepping out into the corridor. "What now? I assume you won't trust me this easily."

I heard what that voicoder of his thought was a chuckle. "Of course not, child. There is one test you must pass. Come." He led me down a long corridor until we exited into a large hallway. There I could look out over a sea of some kind. So we were planetside. Interesting.

We circled the corridors until he led me to a door. All the doors, I now realized, bore a resemblance to the doors of the ruins on Dantooine. "What lies in here, Mal… master?"

"A gift, Bastila, fit for a Sith." With that, he waved his hand and the door opened. Inside, bruised and bloodied, was Master Vrook. "We took him from the enclave on Dantooine. He put up quite a fight, slaying many troops and Dark Jedi alike. But he, too, fell eventually."

Vrook looked up, to see me standing there in the doorway. "Ba… Bastila! What are you doing here?" He then saw me standing beside Malak. "I should have known. Your pride and arrogance has led you down the dark path, has it?"

I looked upon this weak, defiant shell of a man. He who took me from my father; who raised me from childhood; who never said a kind word to me; who constantly berated me for "letting my feelings get the better of me." This man, who took my life from me, and gave me nothing in return but criticism and judgment.

"No, master, it was your pride and arrogance that led me here. I have finally seen you for what you truly are." Darth Malak pulled the lightsaber from his belt and held it out to me. I looked back and forth from it to Vrook. I knew this was the moment of crisis. If I did this, I would be irredeemable. I hesitated. 

Vrook saw his chance, and used his last ounce of strength to call upon the Force. How he managed it when I could not, I did not know. The lightsaber flew from Malak's hand to his. With the last of his strength, he rose to his feet and attacked. Malak stepped back, and sealed us in the room together. I could not believe this. He had left me here, unarmed!

My former master took a defensive stance. "I am sorry, child, but we cannot risk you falling to the Dark Side. With you at his side, Malak will be unstoppable." Typical. He did not try to reach out to me. He did not try to reason with me. I was nothing more than a special ability with great strategic value. If I could not be used to their ends, I was to be destroyed. With that, the last of my doubts vanished. I quickly sidestepped his first strike, and called upon the Force to send him flying back into the wall.

The old man recovered quickly, and tried to strike again. I unleashed my own Force Lightning upon him, only to have it parried by his blade. It seemed he still had some skill. He came at me again, but this time instead of dodging, I dropped and swept his feet out from under him with leg. He went crashing to the floor, and impaled himself on the lightsaber. Malak apparently did not believe in the pressure-sensitive activation plate in his lightsaber.

I looked upon the fallen form of my old master, and I felt something inside me die. While I did not cut him down with my own hand, I was responsible for his death, a master of the Jedi Council. Part of me recoiled at what I had allowed to happen; the rest of me exhilarated in it. I, who had been nothing more than a mere Padawan to them, had survived a battle with an armed Jedi Master. I was amazed at how weak they were. Had this been the man I had allowed to intimidate me all my life? No longer; I was my own person now.

Malak opened the door and saw Master Vrook lying dead on the floor, seemingly impaled by a lightsaber. "Very good, Bastila, just as I had hoped." Let him believe I had done it myself. "Thank you, master. Shall I assume I passed your test?"

"Oh you have, my apprentice. You have, indeed. Come, it is time to prepare." With that, he turned and led me down into the bowels of the temple.

"Prepare for what, master?" I realized what he meant as I inquired.

"For Revan."

Malak took me to the Star Forge. I was amazed at its size and power. I could feel the Dark Side emanating from its walls and was overwhelmed at the sheer implications of its existence. I knew now the Republic would be crushed. Even Malak's lack of tactical imagination could not help but be tempered by the armies I saw being amassed there. I also knew it held great secrets about the Force, that I would one day get Malak to show me.

In the following week, I built a new lightsaber to replace the one I lost on the Leviathan. I also designed a new outfit. I kept the basic cut of my dueling leathers, but instead of tan and brown, I used darkest grey, mixed with crimson red, even deeper than that of my new saber. Down the center I ran a filigree of gold. It was a thing of beauty, and I admired the way it hugged my form. Yes, I had spent far too long under the shadows of old fools. I would no longer hide any part of who I was. For the first time in my life, I thought of myself as beautiful, and I wanted to show it. Not that I'd let any of the dogs that served under Malak touch me. I wanted only one man. The first fool who tried lost his arm.

There were no subsequent attempts.

Finally, a month after I had been taken prisoner aboard the Leviathan, the day I had longed for finally came. The Ebon Hawk entered the Rakatan system, and made a controlled emergency landing on the island world. Malak gave me the news. "Revan is here, Bastila. He may be unwilling to enter the temple, but just in case, I want you to go there and wait for him. Kill him, and you will have proven yourself beyond all reproach."

"Yes, master. I look forward to besting a former Dark Lord of the Sith." I let the implications hang heavy in the air. He knew my ambitions. Malak was a fool, but not an idiot. I had no intention of killing Revan. Fighting, yes, but not killing. I took a small shuttle down to the temple roof, and waited there, near the controls for the inhibitor field. I knew it would only be a matter of time before he came to me.

Scant hours later, I saw three figures approach. Apparently Revan decided to bring Juhani and Jolee along. Disappointing, as I wanted to talk to him alone, but it changed little. My power had grown. I could handle a senile old man and a cat who was scared of her own shadow. First, I would have to goad Revan into battle. The computer on Kashyyyk was correct: battle seemed to reveal his true self.

I stepped out of the shadows of the archway. "I knew you'd come. Malak thought you'd be afraid to enter the temple again, but he doesn't know you like I do; not anymore. Not since you've changed."

Revan looked me over, and I could see the trepidation in his eyes. He knew something was wrong. The Cathar was not so perceptive. "Quickly, Bastila! We must escape before Malak arrives!"

I laughed derisively at her. "Escape? I have no need to escape. I have sworn myself to Lord Malak and the Sith. I am no longer a pawn of the Jedi Council." I let my words sink in. Juhani looked confused. Pathetic creature. Jolee just wore that same tired look that meant he was troubled. Revan just looked at me with shock.

"What do you mean a pawn of the council?" he asked slowly.

I turned to face him, placing both hands on my hips, letting the right one brush my lightstaff's hilt. "Surely you know what I mean, Revan. Look at what the council did to you. They turned you into their puppet, as they do with all who are strong in the Force. They speak of the Dark Side as if it is something to be feared. In reality, their only goal is to manipulate us into being their tools. Surely you've seen it! Fear of the Dark Side is a tool to maintain control!"

"Why do you think they forbade you from joining the Mandalorian Wars?" I moved towards him, closing the distance between us. He held his ground, shaking his head in disbelief. This was going to prove harder than I had anticipated. "They knew you'd realize your true potential, and through off their domination. Malak has shown me how the Council has been using me the same way they used you. They've been holding us back because they knew we would surpass them all!"

"How could you betray us, Bastila?" The pathetic look in his eyes said what he truly felt. "How could you betray me?" He was in the same denial I was submersed in. I would show him the way.

I folded my hands behind my back. The others didn't make a move. Fools. If they had any wits in them at all, they could have tried to capture me, not that it mattered. "I resisted at first. I endured the Sith torments with the passionless serenity of a true Jedi. But after a week of endless torture, I saw the truth." I also saw him flinch. Ah, he was feeling guilty about not getting here sooner; another weak spot on which to prey.

"Malak forced me to acknowledge my anger and pain. He showed me all that I could gain by embracing these emotions, not hiding from them! He made me see what the Jedi Council what was mine by right! They gladly used my Battle Meditation for their own ends, but all the while, they treated me like a child!"

I moved my hands back to my hips. It was almost time. "They were jealous of my power, of what I could become; of what we could _both_ become!" He had to see how strong I was now. If I could just find that part of him that remembers what it was like… "They wanted me to bow and call them 'Master' and follow their code and obey their every order. All they really wanted was to exploit my powers for their own use!"

Revan took a step forward, as if trying to reach out to me. "Don't listen to these lies, Bastila!"

"Lies? You are the one living a lie, Revan!" He had to be made to see things, just as I did. This was a delicate game, but I was sure of myself. He cared for me, and I could use that to bring him to me. "The Jedi Council programmed you to be something you are not; they made you their slave."

I took my own step forward, bringing us close, but not too close. Everything was ready. "You used to be Revan, Dark Lord of the Sith, but no longer. Now you are just a simpering pawn of the Jedi Council and the Republic they serve, like I was, until Malak freed me of their shackles."

It was time for the final stab. I had to open these wounds, trying to find that dark part of him that I saw on Taris as it was burned to the ground by the Sith fleet, or by my treatment at the hands of the Black Vulkars. No matter what name he used, he was still Revan, and he could be again. "A pity the power you once had is so diluted. You could have been even stronger than I am now, but that will never happen. With the power of the Star Forge, Malak will destroy the Republic and conquer the galaxy, and I will be the apprentice by his side after I prove my worth by killing you!"

And with that I snapped my lightstaff on and lunged at him. He barely brought his own blade up in time. Jolee and Juhani were completely taken aback by this sudden move, and it took them a moment to ready themselves. With that moment, I kicked Juhani in the face knocking her aside. As I parried a half-hearted thrust from Revan, I used the power of the force to send Jolee flying back into the chamber they had just exited from.

Seeing his friends fall, Revan turned his full strength against me. I was amazed at his skill. The look in his eyes; the hurt and betrayal; yes, I had done my job well. He was not using the Dark Side directly, but he was skirting its edges. Just a little more… I fell back beneath his rapid strikes, and suddenly I was thankful he was only using a single blade. My goading him succeeded. Now it was time to finish this.

I stumbled back and deactivated my saber. The honorable Jedi of course disengaged theirs. How predictable. I looked at Revan with admiration. "You are stronger than I would have thought possible. Malak was wrong; the power of the Dark Side is not lost to you after all, Revan."

He just looked at me sympathetically as Jolee and Juhani returned to flank him. "I draw my power from the light now, Bastila. Who I was is irrelevant."

I sneered at that platitude. "You can deny what you are, Revan, but I know who you truly are. I have seen the shadows in your mind. Remember, I was there the day you nearly died. When I saved you, I touched that part of you that seethed with the Dark Side. I used the Force to save your life, and we are forever linked by my actions on that bridge!"

He moved to me, as if to touch me but I stepped back. This isn't how it was supposed to be. "That's how I know you will return to the light, Bastila."

Would I never hear the end of the Jedi clichés? I was to turn him, not the other way around. "These are not your true feeling, Revan. You are speaking as a tool of the Jedi, as I once did, only now I see them for what they truly are. The Council cared nothing for you or any of us! They wanted to exploit our bond so you would lead us to the Star Forge! We were nothing more than slaves to their will, like all those who follow the Jedi Code."

I retook the initiative. I quickly moved forward and grabbed his shoulder, and I looked up into his eyes, pleading. "On that bridge that day, I touched something: the real you. I felt its dark power and it both scared and excited me. I resisted it at first, but now I embrace the power of the Dark Side: your Dark Side!"

He tried to pull himself free of my grip but not without much strength. His eyes searched mine, and I could see his dilemma. "What are you saying, Bastila?"

"_You_ deserve to be the Dark Lord of the Sith, not Malak! Together we can destroy your old apprentice, and you can reclaim your lost identity!" The world seemed to fade around us. I was reaching him. There was a spark in his eyes. He was considering it!

"How can we reclaim my identity? I don't remember anything."

I ran my hand over his cheek, and stared up into his eyes longingly. "Your mind was too badly damaged for you to ever fully recover, Revan, but your power, your strength of will, your charisma; the essence of what and who you are still remains!"

I pressed myself against him. So close now. Our lips were only inches apart. Just a little further and he would be mine forever. "You defied the council once and claimed the title that was rightfully yours: Dark Lord of the Sith. Together, we can defeat Malak and return you to your rightful place. And I could be your apprentice…" I let the idea trail off, the slightest hint of desire placed on the last word.

Juhani's voice ruined that near-perfect moment. "Bastila, it is not too late for you to be saved! The teachings of the Jedi can lead you back to the light, as it once did for me." I turned my head just enough to stare balefully at her

"You are beneath my contempt, Juhani. One taste of the Dark Side and you ran into a cave to hide like some cowering animal. You know nothing of the Force or its true potential!" I turned back to my lover, and slid my hand slowly down his chest. "But you, Revan, the power of the Dark Side is yours to command! You can use it to destroy Malak! We need no longer fear the council, or anyone else! We can finally be together!"

Time seemed to freeze for a moment. Our eyes once again met, and I could see the conflict within them. He wanted me, and he could not deny what I had said. It all came down to this. He took me into his arms, and then slowly pushed me away. "Darth Revan is dead, Bastila. I may not agree with the Council, but I am a servant of the light now."

And that was it. All my dreams and hopes and plans for us, crushed with that one sentence. In retrospect, I imagine he must have felt the same way when I fled from him, back on Manaan. How could he reject me? This was our only chance to be together, and he would throw it away? For what? How could he be so foolish. I resigned myself that this would be it. But I would not kill him. I needed to sort through all this. I knew I could bring him to the Dark Side. What did I do wrong?

I sneered at him and let all the pain of this rejection lash out at him. "You are a pathetic fool, Revan. Together we could have defeated Malak and ruled an empire, but now I shall be at Lord Malak's side instead!" With that, I unleashed a wave of the Force to knock them all back while I rushed to my shuttle. As I piloted my way back to the Star Forge, I tried to wipe the tears from my eyes, so Malak would not see them.


	11. Chapter 10 Before the Dawn

Hearts Eye View – Chapter 10

Before the Dawn

_Disclaimer: George Lucas and Bioware own everything. I'm merely having some fun in their playground. Besides which, I'm just a poor, unemployed college graduate (woohoo!!!!) so suing me will get you nothing but the rights to my student loan payments._

I strode onto one of the many observation levels on the Star Forge, where I found Lord Malak overseeing the construction of our armada. Fighters rose on repulsorlift fields to storage bays from the factories far below us where they were assembled. He stood silently and made no acknowledgement of my approach.

"You failed."

I lowered my head in supplication. I had no doubt of his usual penalty for failure, but I also held my suspicions that he didn't go to all the trouble to "convert" me just to kill me so soon. "Yes, Master. Revan came with two others. I could not best all three of them alone."

"You made it back alive, however. I see Revan could not bring himself to strike you down. That will ultimately be his downfall." He said all this, his back still to me. "He is on his way here now, I suppose."

At that moment, proximity alarms started ringing. "Ahhh, it seems the Republic has finally arrived." He spun on his heel to face me. "It is now time for you to show your true worth, Bastila. Come with me."

We moved quickly to the turbolift. We rose to the upper towers of the station, where he led me into some kind of command and control center. A large holo-display of the Rakatan system dominated its center. A Republic fleet had just entered the system, making straight for the Star Forge. "Revan… he must have relayed the location of this system before coming here."

Malak snorted. "He would have been a fool not to. I expected this little complication, which is why I've had the Forge working at 200 capacity for the past two weeks. We have an entire fleet of cruisers manned and ready, waiting for them, plus accompanying squadrons."

My eyes ran over the tactical data coming up on the display. "If my estimations are correct, our fleet capacities are roughly equal, my lord."

"Very perceptive, Bastila. This is where you come in. Your Battle Meditation will swing the battle to our side, and allow us to crush them."

"I understand, master. What of the station's defenses?"

"Sadly, the Star Forge was designed as a factory, not a battle station. It is sadly lacking in all but rudimentary shielding and point defense weapons. If the Republic penetrates the fleet line, the station itself is vulnerable. You are the key to our final victory, Bastila. Do not fail me." With that, he strode out of the command center.

Left on my own, I sat akimbo on the deck and let my mind reach out to the Force. The image of the two fleets moving to engage formed in my mind, and I could slowly begin to feel the spirits of those out there, like a nest of insects, buzzing just out of reach. I let my mind ever so lightly touch the collective mind of both armies, and worked my will upon them. I focused onto the Republic the fear and desperation of knowing that if they lost this battle, the Republic would end. And how could they win against such a massive fleet and this station? I let the fear of the unknown, the fear of death, the fear of failure creep into their hearts, eating away at reflexes, timing, coordination, and most importantly, the will to succeed.

For the Sith, I gave them the flush of victory near at hand. This would the last act in a long campaign, in which they would finally claim dominance over the galaxy, and crush the last serious opposition from the Republic. I pushed back their own fears and doubts, and let the certainty of triumph fill their beings. I knew this alone would not a war, but it tips the scales in favor of whatever side I chose. In many ways it was like being a pagan war goddess of old. I was granting my blessing to the side I thought most deserving of victory. I could not help but enjoy the rush of power this gave me. I had never viewed my abilities in such terms before, but I found that such thoughts pleased me. I had denied myself far too much.

This went on for nearly half an hour, I believe. Then I heard the sound of the doors opening, and I felt Malak's presence enter the chamber. I pulled myself free of my meditative state and stood to face him. He was doing his best to not look concerned, but I could tell something was wrong. "Revan has boarded the station, Bastila. He makes his way here even now. You can lure him in here and separate him from his allies. This time, you should be able to best him. He will not be able to strike you down, and you can use that to your advantage. Kill him, and your place at my side will be guaranteed."

I nodded meekly to my new master. Did he think me some sort of fool? He was throwing me in his path while he prepared some trap. The Republic was losing the battle; my battle meditation had done its job well. The Sith admirals could finish the battle without me. If I stopped Revan, I would have removed the thorn from Malak's side. If I failed, then I would buy Malak whatever time he needed. I was as disposable to him as I was to the Jedi Masters. It didn't matter. If I could defeat Revan, then Malak held no challenge for me, and we both knew it. I would not be a mere apprentice for long.

I waited only 15 minutes before the far blast door slid open. Revan stood on the other side, flanked by Juhani and Jolee yet again. Sensible. Carth and the others would have had a difficult time with the battle droids and Sith masters on the station. No doubt they were defending whatever hangar bay they had seized when boarding the Star Forge. Mind wipe or no, Revan was excellent at making the proper use of all the resources at his disposal.

Revan took one step into the room, and just as his feet cleared the threshold, the door sealed itself behind him, not giving Juhani or Jolee a chance to intervene this time. He didn't blink or turn to look at the door. It was if he expected this. "Revan, I knew you'd come." I couldn't completely keep the tone of resignation out of my voice. If only he had joined me down on the planet. I didn't want to kill him, but I had little choice now.

"Just as I knew you'd be here, Bas." I ground my teeth at the use of that ridiculous pet name, but said nothing. He was trying to bait me and it wouldn't work. "I don't want to fight you. We don't have to do this." He carefully moved towards me, his lightsaber in hand, but inactive.

I pulled my lightstaff from my belt and ignited it. "Nor do I, but it is your decision that placed us here. Had you reclaimed the power of your previous identity I would be your apprentice, not Malak's. But you rejected the Dark Side. Now you must pay the price. Here on the Star Forge the power of the Dark Side is at its strongest. This time you will not defeat me!"

With that I charged him. He quickly ignited his own azure blade and side-stepped my attack, but did not take advantage of the clear opening I gave him. Yes, if he was unwilling to fight to the death, then I would win, no matter how great his skill. He stepped back, and pulled the other saber from his belt, and ignited the gold saber that once matched my own, and then assumed a defensive stance.

I turned to face him, lowering my blade. "Why so reluctant? You did say you wanted to take me dancing." With that, I executed a pirouette, spinning my blade in a circular motion around my waist. He spun himself, using both blade to knock mine aside. Without hesitation, he retook the initiative, and struck out my lightstaff. I realized he was going to arm strikes, trying to disable me. Shifting my own defensive posture to compensate, I twisted my blade, switched dominant hands, and swung around for a backward slash.

He dipped his blue blade behind his back to catch my strike, while extending his off-hand blade suddenly, forcing me to move back if I did not wan to inadvertently impale myself on it. I did fall back, breathing heavily. "Impressive, Revan. Even though you are only a shell of your former self, you are still a formidable opponent. I can't even imagine the power you must have wielded when you were the dark lord. You were a fool to give it all up and follow the Light." I called upon the Dark Side energies that flowed within the walls of this place to revitalize me. I saw the light of realization enter his eyes. Now he knew, as long as I called upon the Dark Side, I would not tire so easily. I could outlast him.

He made a tentative slash out to my side, which I parried with ease. He was testing me. "I am as strong in the light as I ever was following the Dark Side." With that, he suddenly arced his primary blade in a circular motion, slashing out at my hip. I moved to parry it, but it was only a feint. He spun suddenly, and sent his other blade lashing out at my shoulder. I managed to duck and roll past him, and flipped back to my feet.

"The Dark Side has made me more powerful than I ever was before! I have more skill than all but the most powerful Jedi Masters, and soon, thanks to Malak, I will surpass even that!" I lashed out, twisting my blade in my hands, bringing both ends to bear as rapidly as I could, forcing Revan back, limiting his mobility as he busied himself parrying.

"You're only dooming yourself to a cycle of death and betrayal, Bastila! You must see that!" He returned to a defensive stance, both blades lowered and crossed just in front of his legs.

"No, Revan; it is you who are doomed." Our blades danced again, and in some small part of my mind, I could not help but think he was right. In some dark way, this was beautiful: a requiem, a dance of death for one of us. It shouldn't have had to come to this. We could have been happy. Nothing could have stopped us, if he had just listened…

I managed to knock the blue saber from his hand with a sudden reversal of a strike he though he avoided. What I did not expect was him to take the opportunity to swing his golden blade upward to cleave my staff down the middle. One half ceased to function, but the other worked. I tossed it aside, and we stood there and looked at each other for a moment, both down to only a single blade.

"You are growing weary. I can sense it! Your strength falters; the Light is failing you while the power of the Star Forge re-energizes me! Soon all this will be over." I slid into a normal stance, sword held downward at an angle, daring him to come forward. This was somewhat awkward for me. I was not accustomed to dueling with a single blade and he knew it.

Then Revan did something I did not expect: he shut his lightsaber off. "Then strike me down, Bastila. I won't resist."

I held my position and looked confused. "What sort of trick is this?"

He shook his head and threw his lightsaber aside. "No trick. Kill me. If this is what you want, what you _truly_ want, then end this now. We both know I won't kill you. You have all the power, Bastila. You have the Dark Side, the Star Forge, and now the only lightsaber. Use it. Kill me."

I wavered. What was he doing? He was supposed to fight me, and I was supposed to kill him, not this! "I am a Sith now, Revan. Your Jedi trick won't save you." I lashed out suddenly, expecting him to roll out of the way or call his lightsaber back to his hand in time to parry my attack, but he just stood there, and my blade burned a mark across his chest. He stepped back and grunted in pain; doubling over, his hand moved to his chest. It was a long wound, as I was not expecting him to stand still, but not deep enough to seriously cripple or kill..

He looked back up at me, his face grimacing as he struggled to dampen the pain from the burn mark I had placed upon him. "What are you waiting for, Bas? Do it!" I closed my eyes and brought my blade up to end his existence, but no matter how hard I tried to will my arms to finish the downward stroke, I couldn't do it.

I opened my eyes and looked at him. He was standing straighter, but unarmed. He just looked at me with this expression of… infinite sorrow and empathy on his face, and it hurt more than any of Malak's assaults upon me. When I found my voice, it was cracked and weak. "This is not possible! You have rejected the Dark Side, you are a weak and pathetic servant of the light! Why can't I kill you?"

"Because it's not about power, Bastila. Power is a tool, a means to an end, like credits or a blaster or even a lightsaber. Malak and the Sith and the Senate, they all fool themselves into thinking power is what matters; that whoever has the power can do whatever they want." He walked over to me, and gently pulled my arms down. I had never even lowered my lightsaber. I didn't resist. I was just too stunned by everything. Nothing was going as I had wanted.

He cupped my cheek and made me look him in the eye. "Power is ephemeral; an illusion. I didn't see that… before, I think. I wanted power, just like you did, to make the galaxy right; to shape the universe to my will. I'm sure I had the noblest of intentions and believed that with every world I conquered, I could one day make it all right again after this one hard task was done."

"There is always someone stronger, wiser, and more powerful. There will always be others trying to control us, to bend us to their will, or just manipulate us, whether it's for 'our own good' or whether for their own selfish desire. The Jedi Council does it for the former, and the Sith do it for the latter. There is no such thing as absolute power, and the quest for it is what corrupts far too many good people."

"Then what can we do? What is left, if what you say is true?" There had to be an end to it all; I could not imagine living my life as a pawn of anyone, be it Jedi or Sith. I would not go back to the Council's slavery, benign as it may be. "There is too much anger inside me now; too much hatred and fear. I can no longer find peace in the Force."

I felt his hand move down and take my wrist, the one that still held the lightsaber. "You have to be true to yourself, Bas. The Force, light or dark, is only one part of who we are. You have to know yourself, your heart, your desires and instincts, as well as your mind." He raised my hand and placed the end of my lightsaber against his chest. "You need to make a decision. Is the path of the Sith truly the path that calls to you? If so, then all you have to do is just lay your thumb atop that button, and you will have your heart's desire. Show me, who is Bastila Shan?"

My heart suddenly froze in fear. The clarity of the moment washed over me, taking with it the fear and uncertainty, the resentment and the jealousy. I didn't want to kill him. I didn't want to lead the Sith in galactic domination. What I wanted was my freedom; I wanted to explore my life, my feelings; I wanted to find my mother and make up for all those lost years. I wanted to know if what I felt for this man was real or just the product of our bond. I wanted to see how far it would go. Carth, Mission, Jolee, Canderous, and even HK-47 had shown me a much larger galaxy than the Enclave ever had, and I wanted to know about it all. I thought the only way to be free of the Jedi was to become a Sith. Was there a third path I had never allowed myself? Was there another way to look at the galaxy than just what the masters told me?

I opened my hand and let the last half of my lightsaber clatter to the deck. "How can I go back, after all that I have done?" He pulled me to him, and wrapped his arms around me. I laid my head against his chest and tried to let the rhythm of his pulse soothe me. I heard him suck in a sharp breath. No doubt laying me against his injury was not doing him any comfort, but he held me to him nonetheless.

"I was redeemed, Bastila. You can be too. Nothing is unforgivable."

I sobbed suddenly, as I told him about Malak's torture, and how Vrook died. How many soldiers in the Republic fleet died because of my Battle Meditation? How much blood did I have on my hands? Who could forgive me? "Can you truly believe that?"

"I have to. I have no other choice." Of course, his memories may be gone, but he had to know on some level all the death and destruction his former self wreaked across the galaxy. This war could be laid solely at his feet. If he could not find forgiveness, what point was there to going on?

He pulled away from me bringing my head up, wiping away my tears. "I have to go face Malak."

"Why? If the Republic can destroy the station, then he dies with it." Facing Malak at this juncture seemed ridiculous.

He shook his head. "I know it's a risk, but I owe it to him. I led him down this path, and I either need to bring him back, or end him personally. I just have to do this, alone. Use your Battle Meditation, to try and turn the battle for the fleet. If we win, then those who lost their lives won't have died in vain."

He walked over to his fallen lightsaber and picked it up. I knelt down to retrieve my own fallen blade and handed it to him. "Here. You may need this. And I think it's appropriate if you faced him with this." He took it and nodded silently. He turned and moved to the entrance to Malak's lair.

He suddenly stopped and cast his eyes back towards me. "I forgive you, Bastila. And I know the others will too. Forgive yourself."

I nodded once and looked back at him, a wan smile slowly spreading on my face. I looked to the holo-display. "The Republic is losing. I am their only hope of breaking through the Sith lines. It is not much, but maybe it will be enough… for a start."

He flashed me just the faintest hint of that smirk I had come to love, if somewhat exasperatedly. "We all have to start somewhere."

He turned to leave, but I had to call out to him. I had to say it, just once, in case… we never met again. "I love you, with all my heart." I couldn't believe I had said it, but after giving in to the Dark Side and returning to the Light, I was finding there was remarkably little I was incapable of right now.

He turned halfway. "You aren't afraid to love?"

I laughed. I couldn't help myself. It spread like some kind of humorous disease and we were both laughing. When I regained my breath, I answered him. "After this? No. Nothing would make me feel safer or happier than to be loved by you. Go. Face Malak. I'll be waiting." And with that, he nodded once and left me alone. For the first time in weeks, I could feel our bond again, and it gave me strength. I didn't fear it anymore; I cherished it. I returned to my meditative position, and turned my talents once again to the battle raging outside, but this time for a much different effect.

As the minutes ticked by, I could feel the flow of battle changing. The Republic ships were outnumbered now, the battle having gone against them. Instead, this time I tried to rally the Republic with thoughts of success against all odds, while bolstering the Sith's sense of arrogance. After all, victory was assured. They could afford to be a little sloppy. The plan worked, and gaps in the Sith battle line began to open up. I had opened a doorway. I just had to hope that someone was left who could take advantage of it.

My hope was not in vain, as a wing of Republic heavy fighters punched through the Sith lines and executed a flanking maneuver on the cruisers, forcing them to re-focus their firepower. Some of the captains tried to reposition their ships, opening even wider gaps in their formation. Whoever was in charge of the Republic fleet pounced on it immediately. A group of light cruisers punched through, heading straight for the Star Forge. The heavier ships began to close on the Sith Interdictors, forcing them to worry about themselves and not about defending the Rakatan factory. It wouldn't be long before the ships could attack the Star Forge directly.

A few minutes later, Revan returned. He seemed tired, his hair matted down with sweat. The only visible injury I could see was the one I had dealt him, but he seemed drained. I stood up, leaving my Battle Meditation behind. The battle was over, one way or another. There was nothing more I could do. "Malak?" I asked, tentatively.

He just looked up, this sad look in his eyes. "He's gone. I couldn't reach him. Though I think… before the end, he finally understood."

I took his hand in mine. "It's not your fault. He made his own choice. He could have turned back, if he had wanted."

"Maybe. I don't remember what happened back then, and I doubt I ever will."

I leaned up and kissed him, ever so lightly. When I pulled back, the look on his face was almost enough to send me into a fit of laughter. I managed to hold it in. This wasn't the place. "We must go. The Republic cruisers are almost in bombardment position. We must return to the Ebon Hawk immediately." He nodded once, and we fled the command deck, and never looked back.

When we returned to the Hawk, Carth was standing at the base of the ramp. We could hear the whine of the ship's engines as it made ready for take-off. "C'mon! Move! Admiral Dodonna has ordered a full assault on the orbital stabilizers! This whole thing is going to be swimming in the sun in a matter of moments!"

We ran aboard, and Carth was right on our heels. He ran past us to the pilot's chair, and I felt the ship suddenly lurch as we pulled out of the hangar at full burn. I walked into the cargo bay, and saw the others sitting, looking at me. I could feel my heart stop. I had not considered the others, how they would receive me. Revan said they would forgive me. Could they? Juhani was the first; she walked up to me. I recalled all the horrible things I had said to her on the roof of the Rakatan temple, and inside myself, I cringed.

The young Cathar did not say a word. She just stared at me for a moment, and I was unable to meet her gaze. I tried to open my mouth, to say something, but "I'm sorry" just seemed inadequate. Instead, Juhani pulled me into her arms, and embraced me; an act with shocked me. "Welcome back to the light, Bastila. We knew V…Revan would get through to you." It seems she was still adjusting to the reality of Revan's identity. I suppose I couldn't blame her.

As she pulled back, I was speechless. I suppose I shouldn't have been, considering how own brush with darkness. The expression on my face must have been something to behold, as Jolee just chuckled. "Stop that, kid, you look like a Manaan puffer fish. You've got nothing to be sorry for. We all have a pretty good idea what a few weeks in a Sith torture cell can do to you. You may have slipped, but you picked yourself right back up again, and that's what counts. I don't think there's a person on this ship who can claim different. We've all had our long nights."

Carth picked that moment to come back out. "Good news, people! The Star Forge just dropped into the Rakatan sun, and the Sith fleet is scattering. Admiral Dodonna's on the horn, and their setting up a little victory celebration on the planet below as soon as they're done mopping up, and we're all invited. In fact, we're the guests of honor, it seems."

He threw himself down into a seat and seemed to finally relax for the first time since I had met him. He looked old and young at the same time. I had never really noticed before. Carth turned to look at me. This man had been betrayed and lost so much, and I went and betrayed him myself. I finally managed to find my voice. "Carth, I…"

"Skip it, Bastila. It's done. You did the right thing in the end. I already informed the Admiral that you betrayed Malak, and you're the reason for the sudden breakup in the Sith formation. Even Master Vandar seemed pleased by the news, and he said to tell you 'welcome back.' I don't think you have anything to worry about. We're all glad you're back." With that, he just laid his head back and let out a deep sigh.

"Listen to them, princess. We all have things we're not proud of." I glanced at Canderous who had wandered down from one of the gun wells. There was something different about him. The arrogance of the Mandalorians was replaced with something I never thought I would have seen on the seasoned warrior: weariness. The look in his eyes were that of someone who was haunted by some past action. Clearly, I had missed many things while I was… a guest of Malak. "Good job you did on those ships though. I thought those Republic ships were scragged. I kept hearing about how marvelous that meditation trick of yours was, but I never imagined it was so effective."

Before I could respond, Mission ran up and tackle-hugged me, laughing. Even she seemed older, more mature, but had lost none of the youthful exuberance. "I knew you couldn't really be evil, Bastila. That whole Sith thing just wasn't you. It was just Malak screwing with your head. I knew you'd wake up eventually." She ran her eyes over the leathers I had crafted for myself on the Star Forge. "I do like the outfit though. Think you can give me some design tips later?"

I looked down at her and smiled. "Perhaps later, Mission. Thank you. Thank you all." All the tension seemed to drain from the room, and it finally sank in. The war was over. Malak was defeated, Revan redeemed, the Star Forge destroyed, and the Sith fleet was scattered and leaderless. No doubt the clean up would take more time, and the repercussions would be far reaching, but the galaxy could finally begin to heal itself. We could all finally begin to heal.

Revan walked over to me and bit his arm around my waist, and led me to a seat in the circle of friends and companions we had formed over the last few months. Carth sat up and said "Okay, people. Enough of this serious stuff. I think its time for a pre-celebration party. Who's with me?"

Revan spoke up, "Here, here! I doubt anything the admiral can cook up can compare to our own private function." With that, Canderous passed me some foul-smelling beverage that I did not pass up. Let the princess retire to her tower. Mission jumped into Zalbaar's lap, who hugged at the sudden intrusion. Juhani sat next to Jolee, who trying to start in a tale of how all this reminded of the time he and his wife were trying to smuggle some relief supplies. HK and T3 just stood off to the side, talking to each other in binary, making some kind of sarcastic commentary about the rest of us, no doubt.

I looked up at Revan who just smirked at me. "Sure you made the right decision?" I said nothing, but pulled him into a long deep passionate kiss right there in front of the entire crew. The entire room fell silent. When I finally let him breathe again, I responded simply with, "Yes." HK lowered the rifle he had been snapped in my direction. Mission cheered and clapped while Carth and Jolee went up in laughter. Juhani looked mildly scandalized, but was smiling nonetheless. Canderous was smirking himself, and actually tipped his cup to Revan and I. Zalbaar just huffed away in that inimitable Wookie chuckle.

I let the sight of all of us burn into my memory. I never wanted to forget this moment, this day. Despite all that I had done, at that point, I could feel nothing but joy. I did not know what lay ahead for us. There was so much uncertainty, but for this one moment, everything was right with the galaxy. But most importantly, for the first time in almost twenty years, I was home.


End file.
